Not All That Have Fallen Are Vanquished
by Nik216
Summary: A continuation in the world of 'Rise and Rise Again' and 'High Up Above or Down Below'- what becomes of Talia and Bane after the failure of their plan? A short story as they embark on a journey to rebuild their lives, their legacy and the League of Shadows...
1. Chapter 1

**AN: I just can't quit…honestly- I really can't stop with these two…**

**So here we are, taking into account that you have chosen Option B at the end of 'High Up Above or Down Below' and the notion that Bane and Talia did not meet an untimely demise at the end of TDKR. ('Cause I did : ) ) This story is definitely a step into the unknown and I for one am really, **_**really **_**excited to see where it goes. It won't be as long as the last one, but I think it will definitely set a beginning path for the Nolan 'Verse after the movies…**

**Just an FYI, this first chapter is really character heavy and light on the action- as I think that after the non-stop stress and commotion during the failed destruction of Gotham, Talia is really going to need a bit of time to adjust to just what has happened to her and Bane. Not to mention that after crashing a truck off an overpass- she's going to have a bit of spare time to think as well. So, yes it is a bit heavy on the emotion and the drama…but no worse than what I put you through before I promise. : )**

**Kudos and a special treat to those who get the quick character reference…**

**As always I give this to you after many, many conversations with my muse…who, somehow even though this was the last thing on my mind this weekend, managed to get me invested in it! **

**So I hope you enjoy the latest installment…**

* * *

"There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man; true nobility is being superior to your former self." ~ Ernest Hemingway

* * *

Talia al Ghul was many things: strong, fearless, intelligent, cunning and beautiful…but one thing she had _never_ been was humble. Even as a filthy, urchin haired child growing up in the squalor of the Pit, she had walked with a chip on her small, bony shoulders. And indeed, Ra's himself had chastised her on numerous occasions during her training; reminding her that pride was considered a sin in many cultures for a reason. She'd never listened to him.

Like all things taught by a father to his child, it took time for the lesson to sink in- years, in fact- and it had been a very painful one to learn.

Now- she knew humility with an agonizing certainty. Talia couldn't remember anything that happened after she'd closed her eyes to the world and let death's warm embrace take her in the cab of that mangled truck. But what she did know was simple; her father's destiny was minutes away from being fulfilled, and despite the sacrifice of both her and her protector's lives- Gotham was going to be purged in a holy nuclear fire.

It was _weeks_ later before she learned the truth of things.

Talia opened her eyes to a harsh blinding white light, an unfamiliar room and a haze of unbearable misery; her mind struggled to fight through the drug induced fog to catalog her surroundings. A myriad of tubes and wires snaked from her body, attaching her to various machines; her legs were immobilized in heavy, rigid plastic braces that covered up to the top of her hips and her chest was aching with a dull twinge. She was alive? A dry cough puffed through her mouth and wracked her with a jolt of sharp stabbing pain- oh god, it hurt- _everywhere_. The feeling receded a moment later and suddenly her heart began to hammer in her chest, panic seizing her thoughts- Bane- where _was_ he?

The machine next to her that must have been monitoring her heart began to beep frantically, before an alarm finally sounded. The door to the room burst open and a man she didn't recognize began to draw up a syringe; and then a familiar face- Frankie- sprinted to her side. At the sight of the beautiful blonde, tears came to her tired eyes and she could do nothing but whimper…her lip trembling in complete panic. "Bane?" It was all she could manage to articulate.

"He's alive," Frankie soothed, her voice a whisper as she gently touched Talia's forehead with her hand. "Shh…be calm, now. He is alright." Her soft lips planted a quick kiss on Talia's forehead and she unconsciously moved into the gesture of affection. The heavy burden of the moment finally began to ebb, and her head began to level off once again; leaving her in an odd state of emotion, mixed somewhere between confusion, disappointment and relief.

"How have we survived?"

* * *

Talia sat back and listened patiently as Frankie filled her in on the past two months. She'd failed in her mission- the Batman had saved the city at the last minute, and Wayne had sacrificed himself to do so. Moments after she had blacked out the bomb had detonated safely over the bay, sparing Gotham from the deliverance it deserved. It had been a stroke of what could only be deemed as luck that Frankie and Barsad were able to save her and her protector; and thanks to the rather inexhaustible financial resources of Miranda Tate and the League of Shadows they had been able to make their way to a private chalet a couple hundred kilometers outside of Gstaad, Switzerland for the emergency medical care they both required.

Her physical injuries read like a manifesto of a high speed collision: two broken femurs (and ankles), a shattered left knee cap, six fractured ribs, a crushed sternum, ligament strain to her neck and shoulders, a bruised liver, an untold number to scrapes and cuts and a nasty concussion. And Bane had fared even worse- he'd taken a shot from some sort of weapon at point-blank range. In fact the only thing that had saved his life was the fact that he'd managed to turn sideways at the last minute. The main force of the blast had missed, glancing off his metal vest, but the heat had scorched and burned the skin on the right side of his chest and down his arm; and the shock wave from the shot had propelled him nearly twenty feet, stopping his heart. He owed his life to Barsad's quick thinking and a needle full of adrenaline to the chest.

They were alive, safe and together. As the realization of the situation and what she had been through finally hit home, Talia could do nothing but stare up at the white washed ceiling with tears in her eyes. A decade's worth of planning and she'd_ failed_. Her father's great legacy and the League of Shadows had been reduced to nothing- it should have galvanized her into a sense of all consuming revenge and hatred- but at the moment the only thought that trickled into her exhausted psyche was one of calm relief. She'd been chasing and pushing for so long that the thought of having nothing to do but recover was liberating. After all, Wayne was dead and with its only protector gone, the city was left completely vulnerable- Gotham could wait.

"I need to see him." She finally spoke; turning her head to look at Frankie, her request was not a question, "Now."

"Alright," The blonde answered with a skeptical look on her face, noting the fire in Talia's blue eyes was not one to be trifled with; even wounded the Demonhead's power remained. "Let me go get the Doctor and I'll figure out how the hell I am going to get you out of this damn bed."

* * *

Talia was furious and in agony; it had taken Frankie, Barsad and another dark skinned man, Mahir (a member of the League, or so she'd been told) nearly a half an hour to disconnect her from various machines and get her into a large wheelchair. She'd tried to keep her temper in check, only managing to swear once when an errant elbow had nudged the side of her healing leg; but her patience had worn down to nothing. She was minutes away from exploding in an absolute temper tantrum, when the door to her room swung open to reveal one of the last people she would have ever imagined wanting to see with a needle and a clipboard walking towards her- Doctor Jonathan Crane.

"What the fuck is _he_ doing here?" She yelled pointing at the slender man, who in response to her outburst, simply adjusted his glasses and narrowed his sharp blue eyes.

"What does it look like I am doing here, hmmm?" He drawled with an aggravated sigh, "Only spending the last two months trying to keep you and your large friend from going the way of your father- which, if you can believe- has not been particularly easy. Doubtless, I am sure you want an elucidation as to my methods… perhaps in the future if your manner improves I'll tell you. But for now, _I'll_ ask the questions as your attending physician- what do _you_ think you are doing?"

Talia bit her lip to keep from snarling at the man's arrogance. Frankie was going to have some serious explaining to do, what had ever possessed her to put their lives in the hands of this madman? She tried to ignore the voice that whispered into the corner of her mind that her own father had sought out the good doctor's expertise in the past. (Of course that had been prior to his rather violent break with reality and subsequent incarceration in Arkham Asylum.)

It was at least an encouraging sign that he appeared to be a bit more lucid than when she had seen him in City Hall, presiding over the mock court room months ago; his clothes were clean and neat- and his white lab coat was immaculately pressed. She took a deep breath before speaking through clenched teeth. "I want to see my friend."

Crane seemed to contemplate her statement for several seconds before answering in a mumble, "Very well, if it will put you in a better mood, I don't see the problem." He looked over the rim of his glasses at her three attendants, "I only want _one_ of you to roll her in there, no need for a damn circus- Franziska, _mein liebe_, if you'll do the honors."

Frankie rolled her eyes at his petulant tone and grabbed the back of the chair as Crane turned on his heel and walked out of the room. For a diminutive man he had an awful lot of fucking nerve- she laughed at herself when she realized that insanity probably had a great deal to do with that.

The little chuckle caught Talia's ear and she inclined her head just a bit, "What am I missing?"

"He is awfully secure for such a little guy," Frankie whispered conspiratorially, leaning down to keep her voice quiet. "I wonder why? Perhaps he's got something grand concealed in those slacks."

Talia couldn't help but laugh out loud at her friend's frank and crude observation- it was so nice to smile again. And perhaps out of the humor of the moment- or just the pain killers coursing through her veins, she raised her hand to her mouth as Frankie leaned her ear down to share the secret the way two teenage girls would, letting the immaturity take hold. "So if you are fucking him and both personalities are aware of each other- is it automatically a ménage a trois?"

The resulting roaring giggles instantly earned a sharp look from the doctor and the women continued in silence as they walked a short distance down a plain white hallway, before ending at a closed door. Crane stopped and tucked the clipboard under his arm, suddenly turning back and shooing off Frankie with a quick wave of his hand. "I'll take it from here."

Frankie opened her mouth to protest but decided against it at the last moment. Instead she only patted Talia on the shoulder gently, "I won't be far if you need me."

* * *

Perhaps the levity of the walk had been her friend's way of preparing her for what was to come. Because as she was wheeled into the room the sight that greeted her slammed her body with a shot of guilt and grief so strong it felt as if she was back in the cab of that twisted truck again. Talia visibly shook as she saw Bane- her beloved protector- lying motionless in a huge hospital bed, tubes snaking out from his body as monitors around him pulsed with a symphony of mechanical notes. The right side of his chest and arm was completely covered in a thick pack of white bandages that were stained in places where the blood still seeped through. And it was her fault; he was there because of his devotion to her- she'd nearly killed him.

All of this would have been enough to make her hysterical, but as she looked up at his face, her heart truly skipped a beat. It took her several blinks before the realization sunk in- he wasn't wearing his mask.

Her hands trembled as she covered her mouth, the tears falling in a cascade down her cheeks as she stared on in utter disbelief. His face- how long had it been since she'd seen his face? Her eyes closed and an image of him whispering his farewell as she climbed up the stone walls of the Pit came flying back. Absently she reached out for him, completely forgetting that she was confined to the chair, until a sharp twinge in her chest brought her back to the moment. "Can you move me closer?" Talia begged quietly, "Please."

Crane rolled her to the head of Bane's bed, turning her chair so she was parallel to his body, before leaning over to the controls; lowering the mattress a few inches so she could have a better look. Her hand strayed out again, this time able to touch him, and she couldn't hide a sad smile as she traced the line of his jaw and chin; ignoring the few deep scars that marred the surface, before moving to the proud line of his nose and then, finally the pillow soft pout of his incredible lips. How often as a child had she felt them brush her cheek as he read to her at night; or press against her forehead as he checked her temperature to make sure she hadn't contracted a fever? But now, to see him again like this- it was almost too much. Talia leaned over and tried to reach him, groaning as her body protested the movement, but she would not be deterred. Instead she grabbed the arm rest of the chair and shifted her body again, ignoring the shooting pain as she turned his motionless face to hers- this time managing to get close enough to rest her lips against his for the most fleeting of moments.

A kiss- after almost twenty years she'd kissed him again, and not as an innocent child; she'd kissed him as a lover- as his woman. It was something she'd wanted, indeed had _ached_ for- for so long. Talia fell back into the chair with a loud sob as the physical and mental agony began to overwhelm her still weakened body. She didn't hide the tears as her fingers touched first her mouth- then his again and again. It was too much…just too much.

The doctor finally cleared his throat and looked at her with a measured stare. "He's heavily sedated with a cocktail of my own creation via a central line pump to his heart; when I wake him up in a few days, he'll need to resume use of his mask immediately- the pain _will_ kill him otherwise. So I am afraid this is temporary." He watched her sad acknowledgement before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a dried blue flower, "I have had time in the past few weeks to do some rudimentary analysis on the analgesic gas he currently uses- the main compound bears a striking resemblance to the one in your father's plant- though far less effective."

Talia dried her eyes as she carefully stroked her friend's face, "He, my father, originally had it made in Mombasa by some chemist that owed him money- but Bane knows more about it than I do." Her voice trailed off as she looked up to catch Crane watching them with a strange gleam in his cold eyes; her body tensed out of instinct, eyes roaming to the scalpel and scissors on the table beside her- preparing to lunge if necessary. "You think you can improve on his formula?"

"The situation interests me," He shrugged noncommittally as he took his glasses off and focused on the two of them again. "But I am afraid I don't have the background in botany necessary to isolate the traits in the Kali Thistle necessary for engineering a more effective drug. You'd need a Plant Geneticist with experience in this sort of rare species…" His voice trailed off and Talia suddenly got the feeling that he wasn't speaking to her anymore. "…I was acquainted with a rather gifted one when I was in graduate school at Gotham University, her name escapes me."

He snapped out of it a moment later, regarding her again- this time the strange light had left his eyes, "You should get some rest soon Ms. al Ghul- your body needs to heal, and your friend will be here when you wake up."

* * *

Talia slept in her own bed for another week. Until the braces finally came off of her weakened legs and at long last her protector opened up his beautiful eyes again. It was a moment of unadulterated joy like she hadn't felt since the first time she'd seen him- wrapped up in bloody, rotten bandages- when her father had rescued him from the Pit. Not even the reappearance of the mask covering his face dampened the emotion; in the end having him alive and well far exceeded any sort of sentimental discord about the loss of his face.

She'd kissed his lips once, for a second- and that had been enough for a lifetime's worth.

And after he woke, she refused to leave his side. Crane had been beyond irritated at her demand that they share a bed, it was Frankie who finally had the common sense to wheel her old bed down the hall next to his; creating one large sleeping surface with the rationale that if they were both in the same room it would be far easier to attend to their needs. He finally relented with a laundry list of expectations and behaviors that both had reluctantly agreed to.

* * *

The only plus side to their extended convalescence was the return to a place in their relationship they hadn't enjoyed for many years- if ever at all. For the first time they weren't under the constant threat of violence felt in the Pit, beneath the scrutinizing eyes of her father- or living under the crushing weight of her ambition and plans. They simply _were_.

"So you are suggesting we forget the League's mission against Gotham, my father's legacy, and what- retire to a desert island somewhere?" Talia quirked her brow as she stared down at the chess board spread out on the bed between the two of them, contemplating her next move. They had been playing for days and he'd beaten her every single time, it was getting mildly frustrating. Finally she selected her white knight, jumping it with a flourish to capture one of his black rooks.

"Not at all, little one." Bane remarked thoughtfully as he peered out from behind a worn, hardcover copy of _A Tale of Two Cities._ "Merely proposing that now is the time to strengthen our numbers, rebuild your temple- and then, when it is all completed and you reign above the League as you were destined to do, _then_ we make our plans." He absently reached down to move his bishop across the board, before lowering his book catching her blue eyes in a strong, heated gaze. "After all, 'vengeance and retribution require a long time; it is the rule.' "

"Quoting Dickens and _flattery_- my friend? It isn't going to distract me from our game." She replied with a devilish smile, pointing to the pieces. "I already know my next move."

"I am sure you do. But you will have to save it for our next match," His hand lingered in the air for a moment above the board before he moved it to her arm, fingers taking a slow trail up her shoulder to the column of her neck and finally to her lips; where the pad of his thumb traced them with a gentle swipe. Talia couldn't suppress the throb of molten fire that ignited inside of her at his touch; her desire outweighing the frailty of her limbs. She let her tongue capture the thick digit and draw it into her mouth- she was so completely immersed in the moment that she missed the crinkles of a smile that began to form at the corners of his eyes. He pulled back a second later, leaving her in a developing fog of unbearable lust before leaning down to her face, "Because you are in Checkmate, dear one- again."

The look on her face must have been comical, and she felt the embarrassment mingle with want, painting her face and chest with a bright, red flush that was easily seen though her thin, baby blue shirt. She opened her mouth to say something and instead decided against it, raising her chin with a defiant huff. Bane knew neither of them was even _remotely_ healthy enough for any type of sexual relief and he felt the need to tease her? Talia crossed her arms angrily and turned away from him- ignoring the fact that he was lounging in nothing more than a pair of loose, black cotton pants that left very little of his impressive package to the imagination and it had been_ months_ since they had been together last.

He chuckled warmly to himself as he moved to the board, setting up the pieces, "Shall we play another one?"

"Fine," She huffed like a spoiled child, "What else am I going to do?"

"Enjoy the rest, little one," He supplied, resuming reading his book with one large hand as the other one moved to cup her inner thigh, tantalizingly close to the part of her body that screamed for his attention before giving her leg a playful squeeze, "For now."

* * *

**Ah, yes enjoying a wonderful and relaxing time together… but where do we go from here? Hmm?**

**Please, please let me know what ya think! **


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: So after a rather long week this Chapter ended up taking a wee bit of a turn into angst-ville…but I think it actually fits the situation pretty well. Personally I have the feeling that Talia would need to have a bit of a reality check before she was able to move on from the events of the movie…and yea as I am a bit of a drama queen from time to time I figured what the hell. : ) There is also a bit of adult material in here…uh…so yea…that.**

**Also I want to say in reference to the small martial arts mentioned in here and the Wing Chun style she uses- I totally I ripped that idea off from another story in this archive…(cue Selena Kyle "Ooops") But after reading up on it like crazy, as I do with anything I have no idea about, (I was a figure skater for 15 years…Chinese Martial Arts, not so much) I found things that were just too cool and fit so well into the scene I had in my head that I just had to use it…so if it sounds like you have heard it before…ya probably have…then again I have been ripping off Chris Nolan's movie for some time now and you all keep reading, so I think I should be alright… XD **

**Anyhow…thank you so much to everyone who reviewed and followed…keeps me smiling.**

**And to someone who **_**deserves**_** something to smile at…this is all for you love…mwah. (And many, many thank yous for your eyes and editing…)**

**Though I forgot to say it last time…I really don't own a thing at all…(even the subtle '80's movie tribute I snuck in- I am obsessed with lines what can I say : ) )**

* * *

"If earth and moon were gone, And suns and universes ceased to be, And Thou wert left alone, Every existence would exist in Thee." ~ Emily Bronte,_ No Coward Soul is Mine._

* * *

The rhythmic pounding of hands, palms, knees and feet against a wooden sparring dummy echoed loudly through the small, enclosed space of the improvised training room. But while Talia's body went through the motions and various disciplined movements of both Wing Chun and Choy Li Fut that she had been doing for years, it lacked any of the balance and focus truly required in the art. At the moment her mind and body couldn't be more out of harmony with each other. She was lost…uncomfortable in her own skin, and for the first time in her life she felt like she didn't know who she was.

It had been almost a year and a half since she'd first woken up in the makeshift hospital in Switzerland to failed plans and a broken body. Her injuries had healed slowly but surely, and even though long, deep scars now marred the flawless pale skin of her legs, it was her head that was taking longer to get under control. She wanted to chalk it up to frustration; never in her life had she felt so helpless and trapped, literally requiring someone to assist her in doing the simplest and most intimate of tasks. Not even as a lonely girl in the Pit had she been subjected to this sort of indignity. She'd relied on Franziska for everything during her rehabilitation, and the normally cold blonde had been completely devoted. She was there to encourage and push her to walk once the braces had come off, helped her bathe at night and- god forbid- had even taken care of her monthly feminine needs without a word. For the first time in her life Talia had come to depend, rely on and trust someone other than Bane, and it was too strange.

Thoughts and desires raged through her mind like a furious tempest, stirring up feelings of anxiety and restlessness- she was so tired of being caged, of not being in charge. She was Talia al Ghul- the Demonhead - undisputed ruler of the League of Shadows, and to be reduced to nothing but a frail woman was_ killing_ her. And with Frankie and Barsad's recent revelations and departure, things were not getting any easier to stomach. Something in her was going to break…and soon.

* * *

_One Month Earlier:_

Talia was sitting on their shared bed,_ once again_, trying to appear interested in a book on quantum physics while her eyes wandered across the room to watch her protector as he continually raised and lowered his body in pull ups. She felt like a teenage girl, sneaking a peek at his incredible physique as the mass of muscle twisted and undulated underneath his skin- although the warmth and moist heat that tingled and writhed between her legs was anything but naïve and innocent. Unconsciously her teeth began to toy with her lower lip as her mind replayed countless memories of that strong form and those same muscles working just as diligently to bring her to the most earth shattering and soul melting orgasms over and over…

A throb of pure lust squeezed at her core just as a quick knock rapped on the frame of the door. She cleared her throat and spoke as clearly as her fogged brain would allow, instantly cringing at the breathless tone; "Enter."

Bane dropped to the ground soundlessly and turned to meet the faces of both Frankie and Barsad as they walked in, greeting both with a polite incline of the head before settling next to Talia on the bed. His arms pulled her back tightly against the warm, hard wall of his chest as his hand instinctively weaved into her hair, fingers scraping lightly against her scalp. She tried to breathe deep as the arousal surging through her system began to overwhelm her; and there was no doubt the hitch in her breath and the furious battle of her pulse just beneath the skin was evident to the man that held her. And as she felt him shift his weight ever so slightly, she knew he felt the same way.

"I hope I am not_ interrupting_ anything…" the blonde needled with a knowing smirk as she plopped her thin frame at the foot of the bed, making a show of the pile of folders she had in her hands.

Talia rolled her eyes, thankful once again for the years of acting experience that allowed her to slip into a mask of indifference as her body betrayed her. "According to the_ wonderful_ medical guidance that you secured for my friend and me, we are unable to do anything but sit here and stare at the walls for another six months…so, no, you are not interrupting anything at the moment aside from my absolute boredom."

"Well I am very sorry to hear that," Frankie bit her lip to suppress a laugh, feeling it was rather ironic that she was getting more than enough sexual attention as of late and the same woman who used to put her to shame with vocal acrobatics an opera singer would blush at was suffering in celibacy, "But I have some information that may improve your mood."

That was enough to snap her out of whatever self-induced pity she was feeling. Talia quirked her head- suddenly very interested.

"I've been doing a bit of financial consolidation with the remaining Swiss Accounts owned by Miranda Tate and the Clean Energy Foundation; and I took a drive into Zurich this week to sign some paperwork," Frankie began with a sigh, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she stared down, her eyes scanning as her hands sorted through the pages quickly. "Old habits die hard- isn't that what they say…apparently I can't stop working for that bitch."

She flitted back and forth for a minute longer before her hands seized one piece of paper. When she finally looked up and caught her friend's anxious eyes Frankie couldn't stop the glee in her voice, "And while I was sitting in the bank manager's office I noticed a rather interesting piece of information on his desk," she handed it to Talia before continuing, "Such a shame that someone would leave that sort of personal account information out in the open when it is so easily stolen."

Talia stared down at the document, and the instant she read it her body broke out in a freezing cold tingle; the simple black type almost jumped off of the page as if screaming. It was the personal account of Bruce Wayne- and there had been a lot of recent activity for a man that was supposed to have died in a blast a year ago. There were account withdrawals and modifications done from Ibiza to Nice, Paris and finally Rome. He was alive, well and traveling quite comfortably if the numbers were to be believed- and it_ infuriated_ her. Talia bit the corner of her mouth hard enough to draw blood and her hands curled the paper with the force of her grip; her most hated enemy was living up the good life and she was a caged invalid.

"I was thinking," Frankie spoke up quietly, her voice tentative at the silent show of Talia's anger. She'd been around and on the receiving end of that wrath long enough to know when to tip toe around her; and despite the fact that they had grown rather close recently, Frankie still wanted to show respect, "that I - well, that Barsad and I - should, perhaps, check up on this. Its importance to you and the League warrant the effort." She cast a quick look back at the sniper who stood quietly at the door with his arms crossed, but his eyes focused; no doubt ready to interject on her behalf if necessary- it wasn't. "I wanted to leave for Rome as soon as possible."

Talia sat there for a moment and closed her eyes, unable to really focus on anything other than the fury that raged between her ears. "That's fine," she sighed, handing the paper back to the blonde with an exaggerated flourish. "Take as long as you need."

* * *

The reconnaissance mission had been going on for a month, and from the off and on communication that she received from Frankie, Talia knew that they were on the right track. A familiar hatred for the man and a desire for revenge began to rise in her soul, though unlike before there was another emotion that nagged at her- guilt. She was willing to chase Wayne to the ends of the Earth for the pleasure of seeing him fall under her blade, but her friend- would she ask Bane to suffer yet again for her ambition? Could she?

"Join me in_ Chi Sao_, little one?"

His deep voice floated across the room and instantly Talia turned to him with a small nod. The training technique, a corner stone of the Wing Chun philosophy, had been a favorite part of their routine for years. Standing close to one another, face to face, their hands moved into position- forearms keeping constant contact as they rolled through various punches and movements at a more relaxed pace than sparring. It was designed to help the practitioner learn how to sense and respond to the changes, momentum and pressure of their opponent's body; a way to harness and use instinct. They had always enjoyed it for the practice as well as the sensation of each other; the touch of skin to skin was incredibly erotic and in the past the training had more than once resulted in a hot and frenzied coupling on the mats.

But not this time…

And it was the last straw. Her neglected libido flared to life instantly at the warmth of his touch, and Talia's heart beat kicked up again as her eyes followed up the strong, dips and curves of his arm muscles admiring it all- including the fresh pink scars caused from the burns he'd sustained in the siege of Gotham that stretched up from his right elbow to his shoulder. She was so far gone that he easily landed three or four gentle hits to her neck and the middle of her chest.

"You need to calm your mind and focus," he admonished quietly as he grabbed her arms tightly, moving seamlessly into the next exercise; this time focused on the legs instead of the arms. As her thighs rubbed back and forth against his, she couldn't stop the anxious laughter that bubbled up from her throat. Talia looked up from his body to his face, taking in the beautiful color of his hazel eyes as they began to darken with the familiar hunger she craved the most.

"Oh my mind is keenly focused my friend," she smirked as she stepped into his body and with lightening quickness wrapped her leg up around his waist- pulling the core of her need flush with his, "There is only one thing in my thoughts."

He shook his head with a chuckle; "Are you such a slave to your carnal appetites? Where is your discipline?"

Talia's sapphire eyes narrowed at his comment- how dare he pretend that he wasn't feeling the same thing! She grabbed his arms tightly to anchor herself before leaning back slightly to arch her spine and send a hard roll down through her body, letting her crotch grind hard against his. A moan of desire and triumph tumbled from her lips as she felt him come to life; his large, stirring hardness was a confirmation that his mind may be under his control for the moment- but his body was under hers. She stared up at his face as she began to rock against him again with a fluid motion, "It seems that I am not the only slave, my friend."

Bane's eyes slid shut as a low growl slipped through the muzzle of his mask. And as his strong hand grabbed her thigh Talia gasped, first from pleasure and anticipation- and then from disappointment as he moved her leg off his hip and set it back down to the ground again. The act was like a shock to her system, lust was quickly replaced with confusion as she stepped away from him. "Are you are_ refusing_ me?"

"No," his voice was tinged with an indiscernible emotion as he stared at her, "You have not fully healed little one, and I will not hurt you for my own selfish wishes."

The words hit her like to a slap to the face; but instead of it feeling like ice water on her passion, it was like gasoline. Every piece of every emotion from the past year assailed her at once, sending her into an unbridled rage she hadn't felt since her father had exiled him; "You are hurting me now!" she screamed, "I feel agony so deep that it tears me apart constantly- I_ ache_ for you!"

Tears began to fall from her eyes and she did nothing to stem the pathetic show- her anger far outweighed her pride; "Do you have any idea what it is like to see you day in and day out- sleep by your side and not be able to touch you like I desire?! It's not FAIR."

A miserable hiccough cut off her tirade and she hated herself the moment her words hit her ears, even more so when she saw the hurt look in his eyes. Her protector knew all too well what she was feeling- he'd been forced to endure it at more than one point in their lives together; from either the necessity of hiding her identity or from the fear of her father, he'd endured it with silent dignity. And she'd been asked to do it once, and had been too selfish and weak- after all he'd given to her.

Talia couldn't deal with the pain in his rigid posture and the shame that she was responsible for causing it. She spun quickly on her heel and practically ran out of the room, praying she could move fast enough to outrun her guilt.

* * *

Bane hadn't come to see her all afternoon.

Talia stood out on the small balcony outside of their bedroom that over looked the snow covered town, wearing nothing but a long, thick woolen robe as the cold winter air nipped at her nose and her ears. Somehow she always seemed to retreat to the cold when trying to hide from her feelings; but now she welcomed the discomfort- it gave her something tangible to keep her sadness real. And she deserved to feel it. She'd let her weakness get the better of her_ again,_ and the more she reflected on her pathetic behavior today the more she realized that it was just an indication of her flawed soul. She was a wretched, self-centered and evil woman who did not deserve the man who somehow continued to stand by her side.

After everything she'd been through she should have been able to control herself and her feelings; she was a grown woman, and yet no matter how much she tried she still had the impulsivity of an entitled little princess. She half wondered where she inherited such a ridiculous trait as neither of her parents seemed to possess it- and her protector certainly didn't.

What had she ever done to deserve such devotion? Was the unfortunate twist of fate that had her born of a woman abandoned and condemned to hell really make her deserving something so beautiful? After all this time- did he still want it?

As the sun began to dip behind the tall peaks of the Alps in the distance, she felt him return; standing behind her as a faithful shadow- and the tears of relief fell. Talia turned to meet him and opened her mouth to apologize, and his finger pressed gently against her lips to silence her before sliding his palm against her cheek and into her hair. She nuzzled the warm skin as he gently pushed her back to the ledge, helping her up to sit on the stone surface. The robe fell off of her shoulders with the upwards movement, and he tugged it the rest of the way off, leaving her bare before him. Her body was completely immune to the cold as her eyes were riveted to his, trying to hold back her tears as she silently beseeched him for forgiveness.

Bane's hand raised her face up as he stared at her for a seemingly endless moment, before brushing away a tear and finally speaking. His voice was deep and so full of sadness it crushed her; "I wonder, little one, when you speak of fairness and pain just what basis you are using for comparison."

She took a shuddering breath before trying to say anything to apologize- he cut her off with nothing more than a slow shake of his head, it was clear that he had not finished; "Do I know what it means to see you each day and not touch you? Yes. I know what it is to be tormented with what I cannot ever have."

A lump formed in her throat as she stared at the mask on his face- he was not talking about those long ago days when they had to hide their feelings; no, he was talking about a punishment far more severe. Her hand moved slowly up to touch the hard twisted muzzle as he mirrored the motion, his thumb gently sliding across her lips. The memory of the fleeting kiss she'd stolen when he was in a drug induced stupor flashed through her mind- he didn't know. Once again she'd selfishly taken something from him without any thought to how he would feel.

"The pain in my body is nothing compared to the torture of knowing that I can only touch you with this metal…" Bane stopped for a moment; his eyes darkening as his hand trailed down the front of her body, skimming across the cool, raised flesh of her breasts and her stomach before dipping between her legs. Talia gasped with a breathless whine as his fingers began to slowly trace- up and down- the soft, silken folds with a feather light touch, his voice dropping to a deep rumble, "…where I yearn to taste you with my own mouth."

Her entire body was shaking, overwhelmed by the freezing cold and the immensity of his confession. The only honest thing that she could do was reach for him, her hands pulling feverishly at the ties of his simple, black sparring attire- not stopping until she finally reached in to grab him. And as her cold hand closed around the hard, hot flesh she couldn't suppress the sob that burst from her lips- to feel him like this again, it was pure joy.

"Please…" she breathed, "Please." Even now, after all that they had been through, all that she had asked of him- he obeyed her without a second thought. Bane grabbed her thigh gently with one hand and held her face with the other, letting Talia be the one to guide him into her body.

They both groaned loudly as he began to penetrate her, the thick shaft pushing hard against her slippery flesh. He had always stretched her full, but after the dry spell she'd been made to endure Talia felt like a virgin again. Between the pressure and the cold, her body clamped down on him like a vise and wouldn't allow even another inch. She whimpered at the uncomfortable feeling and he responded instantly, withdrawing and scooping her into his arms; heading back for the sanctuary of their room. He lay her down with the utmost care onto the bed, remaining on his feet as his hands began to gently rub her shivering flesh to warm it back up.

The amazing sensation of his touch all over was enough to reignite the fire deep inside and she moved herself to the end of the bed and spreading her thighs wide, offering him everything. His calloused palms traced the soft curves of her hips before reaching underneath to take her backside into his hands, lifting her ever so gently into perfect alignment with his body- and blessedly, this time, there was no protest in her healing body as she reached down to lead him home.

Inch, by inch he slid in and Talia's wide blue eyes were blurred with tears; "Forgive me, my friend." she whispered as he finally reached her deepest point, bumping against her very center before beginning a slow, gentle rhythm. "Please…please forgive me for everything- I am so sorry." She knew he wouldn't reply verbally to such a ubiquitous sentiment, but the feel of his hands tightening on her skin and the tender look in his darkening eyes let her know that he accepted her plea on the only level that mattered.

Their last union, over a year ago in John Daggett's penthouse office, had been as explosively hot as the nuclear bomb that detonated only hours later; but this time, her friend's thrusts were slower, more gingerly delivered thanks to both of their still healing bodies- yet somehow, it was no less satisfying. He rocked into her with purpose, using the angle of his pelvic bone to rub and stimulate her with amazing accuracy, and it wasn't long before a weak orgasm wracked her tired body- the tiny flutters of her inner walls sending him over the edge only minutes later.

After taking a few minutes to steady himself, Bane slowly withdrew from her body and finally stepped out of his pants, before settling on the bed and taking her into his arms. Talia couldn't help the lazy smile that played upon her face as she rested comfortably on his chest. Her skin tingled from head to toe, literally crackling and surging with energy, as if the climax she'd just felt wasn't a 'little death' but instead the spark that brought her back to life. She felt whole again; and her mind, for the first time in so long, was quiet. A contented yawn escaped her mouth and she sighed as Bane began to stroke through her hair.

The sudden and sharp clearing of a throat snapped them both into a rigid alert instantly; her protector vaulted from his place to stand beside the bed, ready to strike if necessary. It_ certainly_ wasn't- the intruder wasn't much of a physical threat to either of them, even now.

Crane stood in the doorway with a bored and slightly irritated look on his face, as he removed his glasses and stared at the both of them. Talia absently covered her quickly cooling body with the warm comforter as he sighed; "I cleared you for training, and_ mild_ exertion."

She could only laugh as her friend looked at the diminutive man with a laughing glint in his eyes as he crossed his arms and squared his shoulders in defiance. Somehow standing there completely nude, cock standing at half staff, he still managed to look just as intimidating as he did in full military dress with his armored vest and flak jacket. The show of dominance did not go unnoticed; apparently Crane was crazy…but not_ that_ crazy.

"Fine," he ground out, putting his glasses back on, "apparently you aren't interested in my opinion. See me tomorrow when you throw out your back or whatever." With a quick spin he turned around and left the room- grumbling under his breath the entire way.

Talia rolled onto her back and let out a loud, honest to goodness laugh at the look on the man's face. It was just priceless. She was smiling ear to ear as her protector climbed back into bed with her and she found her place on his chest again, "Should we tell him that_ was_ a mild exertion?"

Bane chuckled richly as he held her tight, "I think the good doctor will learn that in time little one, very, very soon."

"Yes, I think you are right my friend," she agreed readily as she closed her eyes, letting every bit of tension and unease leave her body. Tomorrow was a new day- and she would greet it finally as a new woman.

* * *

**Ahhh…so it begins again…it looks like Mr. Wayne's little European Vacation may end before he'd like!**

**Please let me know what you think…reviews are so amazingly motivating…**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: I am so crazy stressed this week…how am I actually writing faster than normal? Oh, right because creativity doesn't like to be pushed to the back burner…**

**Anyway- this chapter was a lot of fun…a nice little vacation for Bane and Talia, if they were inclined to take one anyhow…and I really wanted to show them out and about together as it is something I haven't really had the opportunity to do before, liberating cities and nuclear bombs is busy work…also there is a nice little teaser of things to come : ) **

**For any that are interested, Manang is an actual town in Nepal in the Annapurna Range and is absolutely beautiful…check it out on Wikipedia and you'll see the view from the valley ridge that Talia sees…it's amazing looking. Not sure if I did it justice.**

**Thank you to all who have read and reviewed this story…I am so darn happy at the response and am forever grateful. You have no idea…**

**And to my lovely muse and editing eyes…this epic look is for you, darling XD **

**Still own nothing…not a thing…**

* * *

"Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, and like art. It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things which give value to survival." ~C.S Lewis

* * *

"Can we stop for a moment?"

Talia huffed out the request as her breath heaved in a pant. She was seriously out of shape; between the two years of rehabilitation and the time spent as Miranda Tate- it was safe to say that she was far removed from the lithe and conditioned assassin she once was. With a deep sigh she reached down and unscrewed the top of her canteen and took a long pull of the lukewarm water. She and Bane were deep in the Nepalese highlands an hour's hike from their final destination at the base of the Annapurna Mountains, and with the way that her legs were feeling it couldn't come soon enough.

Her friend had convinced her to make the five hour journey on foot to the small village below the ruins of her father's temple instead of taking a more modern form of transportation- insisting that the trek would do them both some good. And she would have normally been inclined to believe him, if it wasn't for the aching twinge in her back. The wind suddenly picked up from the east and a small shiver raced down her body. It was quickly getting colder as the altitude increased, and she half wondered if she should throw on another layer of clothing, as the black t-shirt she was wearing was not keeping her warm.

"Are you alright, little one?" Her protector questioned as she brusquely rubbed her bare arms. As per usual, thanks to the powerful analgesic gas he constantly consumed, he appeared to feel little fatigue and even less from the cold. Dressed in similar attire of dark cargo pants and a snug black shirt he seemed just fine in the rapidly cooling air.

Talia could only sigh as she shrugged her shoulders, pulling a coarsely knit, dark blue wrap-around cloak from her bag and slipping it on, "I am fine I suppose, my legs are a bit stiff and my back is sore though."

He nodded and dropped his pack to the ground before crouching at her feet and taking her leg into his hands. With sure, strong, and warm fingers he began to knead the muscles of her calf and then her thigh; taking extra time to focus on the area around her recent injuries. Talia sighed in absolute relief as he moved to the other leg, encouraging her to rest her weight on his shoulders.

"You are too good to me," she groaned pleasantly as he worked through a particularly hard knot at the back of her thigh along the hamstring. "I owe you a similar indulgence later, my friend."

Bane looked up at her with a mischievous glint in his eyes; the smile was evident in his tone as he spoke, "Yes. I am sure tonight I will have something straining that requires your nimble grasp to soothe." His hands moved up to tickle high on the inside of her leg, gently brushing his knuckles against the crux of her thighs. Talia arched an eyebrow at the off-color remark and the suggestive gesture, before giving his shoulder a playful swat.

"Don't push your luck; my hands might be _far_ too worn out for any exertions after the little hike you made me do."

He laughed lowly at her thinly veiled threat as he stood up and situated his pack on his back, gesturing to her with a waggle of his fingers for hers, "Let me make your journey easier then."

Talia hated to give him the additional burden, but the relief from the weight was amazingly welcome at the moment. She handed it over and pulled down his face so she could place a gentle kiss on both of his cheeks, then moving her mouth to the muzzle of his mask she brushed her lips against the metal grating letting her voice fall into a husky whisper, "Though maybe if my hands are too tired- my tongue may not be."

A playful growl vibrated the mask against her sensitive skin and she couldn't stop the purely feminine giggle that spilled out, her blue eyes light, "That is if we can manage to get there before I freeze."

Bane turned and started off again, this time at a faster pace, "Keep up, my dear, or I will throw you over my shoulder as well."

* * *

Two hours later they stepped out of the meager tree cover and crested the top of an arid plateau overlooking the tiny village of Manang; Talia could do nothing but breathe deep in the thin air as she stared at the colossal, and snow covered mountain range before her. The extraordinary scenery was just as awe-inspiring now as it was the first time she'd laid eyes on it as a starving twelve year old girl who had walked half way across the continent to find her father. Everything from the rough, craggy rock faces and the immense blue/white glacier that led up to the Thorong La Pass and the League's Temple looked exactly the same as she remembered it to be.

It was the first time she's d seen it since she left to stay in Switzerland at eighteen. After the death of her father she had been too angry to return, instead sending Bane in her stead to gather up members of the League for the assault on Gotham. But now, to look out at the first place she had called home as a free woman and the first place she had ever lain with the man she loved- it was enough to bring tears to her eyes. A strong wind kicked up and took control of her long hair, whipping it all around her face; but instead of shrinking away from the frigid torrent she stepped forward, letting it consume her. Talia walked to the edge of the hill and spread her arms wide, allowing the cloak over her shoulders to flap wildly in the breeze as she closed her eyes and stared up at the sky.

She finally sensed it deep in her bones-this is what it meant to be the Demonhead. A feeling of utter wholeness and satisfaction-of contentment, of no longer going to bed at night wanting. It was true power. Her arms fell to her sides with a happy flop and she turned back to her friend with a broad smile on her face- he was watching her, as she knew he would be, with such a look of adoration and blind worship in his eyes it humbled her yet again.

"We are home my friend."

* * *

The pair moved down the steep, rocky slope and made their way into the village. Talia wrapped her shawl up around her face to conceal her identity and her protector followed her lead- though even with the muzzle of his mask covered he still managed to turn the heads of every person they passed. It was only a precautionary measure really, to avoid being seen by any western tourist who happened into the town; the natives of the area were already familiar with the black military gear they wore and what it represented. The legend of the masked man that lived in the temple of the demon and the beautiful princess he loved had become almost a fairy tale told to children at bedtime; so it was not a surprise when an old woman waved them down, handed her a key and pointed off to a house that had been owned by Ra's al Ghul himself.

Just outside of the main cluster of buildings Talia and Bane settled into the small two story structure, the hand hewn stone walls housing only the simplest of amenities. It was here that they would make their camp until Frankie and Barsad arrived later in the evening to discuss their plans. Talia yawned loudly as she trudged into the room and sat down on the feather mattress on the floor, she was just going to close her eyes for a moment- just to sharpen her mind.

* * *

Hours later, the sound of the wooden door creaking against the wind on its rusty hinges snapped her out of her sleep. Talia sat up straight and her eyes automatically adjusted to the darkened room, thankfully it was one product of her upbringing in the Pit that never seemed to leave her. She had slept far longer than she'd originally anticipated and it was already after sunset. Her eyes darted across the room to survey her surroundings; Bane sat at a small, rough, wooden round-table cleaning a number of knives and an AR-15 rifle by lantern light, as a small cast iron stove in the corner of the room crackled pleasantly with a warm fire. Despite the exceedingly spartan surroundings Talia had to admit the place was rather comfortable. She lay back down without a word and snuggled further into the warm bed, letting the fatigue from the day close her eyes again-just as their two long awaited guests stumbled into the house with a gust of cold air.

"You always send me to the best places," Franziska's sarcastic voice floated into the small space as the blonde dropped two rather large duffle bags on the floor.

Talia laughed as she took in the pretty, bronze tint to the German's normally pale skin and the sun kissed highlights that threaded through her long hair, "You just got back from a six month jaunt around Europe, so stop your damn whining."

Frankie smiled in reply and shrugged her shoulders, "You have me there." She crossed the room and came to rest at the foot of the bed as Barsad joined Bane at the table, emptying his gun case and pulling out his Barrett and the cleaning supplies.

"It is very good to see you brother," the sniper spoke quietly as he sat down. "How are you feeling?"

Bane nodded slowly and clapped the smaller man on the shoulder with one firm hand in a very rare show of effusive friendliness, "I am well, thank you."

Talia smiled at their subdued display of camaraderie as she turned to Frankie who was staring at her scuffed boots. In a gesture that took her completely by surprise, the thin woman suddenly leaned over and wrapped her arms around her in a somewhat awkward and quick embrace. "I missed you," she mumbled under her breath, her eyes falling anywhere but on Talia's stunned expression.

She had never been particularly demonstrative or affectionate with anyone but Bane, save, perhaps her beautiful mother- for the short time she had her, and for a second Talia didn't know what to say to the girl. Finally she decided that being honest was the proper way to behave, after all she was starting at someone who had been at her beck and call for the past decade, "It _has_ been too quiet without your company." It may not have been the most loving thing to say, but it got the reaction she'd hoped for; a genuine and relaxed smile slid across the girl's face.

Frankie stood up a minute later and walked to her bags, riffling through it for a moment before producing a full bottle Raksi. She shook the clear bottle of Nepalese liquor in the air and raised an eyebrow to catch Talia's attention, "Picked some up in Kathmandu, let's go have a drink on the roof. I am sure they'll be down here rubbing their metal for hours and I don't feel like watching."

Barsad shook his head at the insult and cocked back the bolt loudly on his rifle, popping out a chambered .50 caliber round with a flourish and catching it in mid-air before fixing her with a sardonic gaze. Frankie only stared back at him and crossed her arms, "I am not wrong and you know it. If that fucking gun could get you off I would be a second thought."

"But where would I be without your charming voice," he replied without missing a beat, "and engaging vocabulary, _zemra ime._"

Frankie rolled her eyes, "Yes, yes…sure, whatever you say."

Talia laughed at their bickering as she finally supplied a cool answer, "We'll talk logistics as well- call it a business meeting. Just like the old days."

* * *

The two women lay shoulder to shoulder, sprawled out on the old ramshackle slate roof, well intoxicated on the strong rice liquor and laughing like school girls instead of the nefarious criminals the world would so easily paint them as. Frankie gasped desperately for air as Talia rehashed one of the first memories they had shared years ago, shortly after she had joined Bane in exile:

_They were flying high somewhere over the thick jungles of Colombia, en route to a meeting with several local war lords to secure a weapons deal that would influence a coup d'état. Talia stood nervously at the back of the massive cargo plane as the back hatch began to open, revealing a pit of complete darkness and roaring winds. She hated heights as it was, and the fact that they were going to be parachuting at night with nothing but a headlamp and a GPS system for guidance was not making the situation anymore appealing. Bane checked her pack and her harness one more time to insure that everything was exactly as he wanted it to be._

"_Ready to go, then?" His deep voice, even shouting, seemed to be completely swallowed up by the breeze._

_She nodded nervously before speaking up, "Maybe you should have Franziska jump first- that way I will be able to make sure she lands safely."_

"_Hey!" Frankie's voice suddenly screamed out from behind her, "The plan was _you_ jump first and _I _follow! You don't change the plan at the last goddamn minute!"_

_Talia's eyes narrowed at the girl's tone and she instantly jumped on the defensive, pointing in her face angrily, "You work for me! That means I tell you when to take a fucking piss- do you understand me? If I want you to jump first, you are going to jump first!"_

_The blonde's face reddened at the insult and she did not hesitate to speak her mind- it would be a few more years before she learned her place and how to hold her tongue, "Look it's a plane and those fly high in the air- if you are too scared to jump just fucking say so and I'll do it!"_

"_How dare you! I am _not_ scared!" Talia yelled as she grabbed the front of Frankie's harness to jerk her off balance and push her towards the opening._

"_Yes you are!" She answered petulantly grabbing Talia back and pushing with equal force._

_Moments later both women felt a large hand close on their arms-and then they were free falling through the blackness of the night sky. After both of them gained control of their absolute shock they pushed off from one another to concentrate on the flight._

_The realization didn't come to Talia's mind until she landed- Bane had pushed them._

"I was _furious_!" Talia yelled, "I was so determined to punish him, I swore I wasn't going to fuck him for a week!"

Frankie scoffed and rolled her eyes, "How'd that work out for you?"

She sighed loudly and let out a deep breath, "Not well…I don't even think we made it to the tent that night."

"You didn't."

Talia smiled and bit her lip with curiosity, "How do you remember that?"

A raised and very skeptical eyebrow stared back, "Because I was _in_ the tent with fucking a pillow over my head trying to block out the noise."

The two women stared at each other for another moment before completely losing all composure- Talia threw her head back and cackled loudly, letting the tears come streaming down her cheeks, "Oh, my god, I am sorry."

Frankie wiped her eyes and sighed, "It would be more sincere if I hadn't lived with it for the past decade." She pointed drunkenly at her friend, "You have the self-control of a teenage boy where that man is concerned."

"You have _no_ idea," Talia groaned.

"So what did you do to get back at him?"

The brunette tossed her long hair back and seemed a bit perturbed, "Nothing actually, I thought about stealing his razor so he couldn't shave or something juvenile like that- but it's useless, he always knows when I am up to something."

Frankie took a long sip and chuckled thoughtfully, "I can't picture him with hair and a beard, the way Barsad wears his- it's probably not convenient for him with the mask and all."

"No, but he never wore one anyway," Talia smiled. The image instantly recalled memories of the Pit that she wistfully explained to the now very interested woman next to her; about how he looked with a bit of stubble on his face and a crop of short, messy, brown hair on his head that used to stick up all over when he first woke up. Unconsciously her mind played over every detail of his face, now becoming an all too real fixation thanks to the events of late-and that man's mouth- it haunted her dreams.

"Get your fucking mind out of the gutter!" Frankie slapped her hard on the shoulder a couple of times, "No will power at all!"

"None," Talia shrugged and laughed out loud again. What was there to say? She was right.

Frankie shook her head and took another sip from the bottle staring at the normally cold woman; her cheeks were flushed with mirth and an unadulterated smile stretched across her face. It was the first time she had ever really seen her honestly act like an equal, maybe even a friend. It was a bit hard to get her head around and she went to her sarcasm as a safe place, "You laugh like a braying donkey you know."

Talia's sharp blue eyes were hard for a minute, but try as she might she couldn't stop the giggle that came pouring out in the middle of her mock tirade, "I am the Demonhead and ruler of the League of Shadows. I do _not_ bray like a donkey- I laugh with the grace of a thoroughbred Arabian mare, thank you very much."

Frankie handed over the bottle with a roll of her eyes, "Yes, of course Mistress."

Talia took a healthy swallow and went silent for a moment before turning to face her, sincerity now in her voice, "Thank you."

The words came out simply, but the meaning behind them was anything but. The sentiment was long overdue, and honestly covered nothing of the sacrifice the girl had made on her behalf- but it was a start. Had she been a normal woman she would have cried and thanked Frankie for the years of devotion, her unfailing loyalty when she had turned her back, for saving her life and many, many other moments-but she wasn't. Thankfully she was talking one of the few people in the world who realized the monumental nature of those two little words. Instead of tears and hugs, Frankie simply nodded and quirked her lip in a small smile before replying, "Don't mention it. Besides it was in my best interest- honestly, I didn't feel like looking for a new employer. The job market is terrible."

Talia chuckled at her cheeky reply and took another sip of the burning liquid before leaning back to stare up into the starry night sky. And somehow, despite the fact that her head was spinning like a top- she felt strangely grounded.

* * *

The next morning brought bright sunlight and a pounding headache the likes of which Talia hadn't felt since her days of dealing with John Daggett and the Wayne Enterprises Board. Already on her fourth cup of herbal tea to combat the dehydration and the altitude she reasoned that it would be a long time before she did anything that foolish again. In fact the only thing that made her feel remotely better about the situation was the realization that Frankie felt just as awful as she did.

She rubbed her temples with her hands as she walked across the small room to the table where Bane and Barsad were sitting engrossed in conversation. Before she could sit down on one of the wooden stools Bane grabbed her small wrist and gently tugged her down into his lap, his hands absently touching every inch of flesh exposed by her oversized robe as they stared at an old set of building schematics. Talia gingerly held the hot clay mug as she scanned over the blueprints, recognizing the building instantly from its imposing, 19th century Kirkbride Plan design- Arkham Asylum. There was a definite problem though, wherever these had come from, they were woefully deficient- leaving out any sort of basement floors.

"They are incomplete," Bane answered as if reading her thoughts. "We will require more detailed information of the lower levels."

She nodded attentively as Frankie's loud yawn interrupted her, "What about the good doctor? Certainly he was acquainted with the entire damn place."

Talia made a face at the mention of his name, "I hope for no help from him. He disappeared the moment we were well enough to leave Gstaad; I would assume that he went back to Gotham but who the hell knows."

"Depends who was in charge that day I imagine," Barsad supplied with a low laugh, "I know the maps we need, and I _had_ them stashed away down in the sewers. I wonder if the Police would have found them?"

Bane cocked his head solicitously for a moment and then turned to look at the sniper and the blonde, "Go back to Gotham and find them. We need access to that building and it needs to be from the underground," he gently stroked the side of Talia's cheek as he continued with his deliberation, "we will stay here little one, Mahir will return soon with the remaining loyal soldiers he could find. We need to begin rebuilding your temple and wait for information- then we strike."

The way his deep, rich voice caressed each note of their plans caused a delicious shiver of anticipation to run down her spine. After Frankie had given concrete evidence of her hated enemy's survival the two of them had talked of nothing else but plans, ideologies, and their future for months and months as they lay entwined on their shared bed. The time for the League's merciful cleansing of Gotham was over and the days of blind, narrow sighted ambition were done; it was time for the Demonhead to bring balance to the _entire_ world. There was just the simple matter of one last parting gift for the man who murdered her father.

After all Bruce Wayne had insisted the city was worth saving, that it was pure, and she would hold him to his conviction. Let him see the type of people that he saved-the corruption and filth he allowed to endure. Let him fight them over and over, day after day for the rest of his life, and in the end, when they'd taken everything from him, he would come to rue the day he turned his back on Ra's al Ghul and the League of Shadows.

"Yes, my friend. We will wait patiently here, there is work to do."

Talia took a sip of her warm tea with a smile; it was about time that Mr. Wayne's retirement and safe, sugar, sweet life abroad came to an end.

* * *

A deluge of pouring rain hammered loudly on the open windowsill and despite the wind that raged outside like a hurricane, it did little to cut through the oppressive summer heat and humidity. Frankie sat quietly in the darkness, her wet clothes clinging to her body as she looked around a familiarly shitty little apartment in the middle of the 'Old Town' neighborhood of Gotham. It would seem that no matter how much things changed, they really did stay the same.

Thankfully she didn't have to wait around for very long. A little after three in the morning, the door opened slowly and with a flip of a switch light flooded the dingy space from a single exposed bulb in the middle of the room. She remained motionless as she watched the tired young, blonde woman peel off her soaking wet coat and wring out her long frizzy hair. After waiting impatiently for another moment Frankie finally cleared her throat loudly.

The girl jumped with a squeak, her green eyes nearly bugging out of her head, "Who are you?!"

"Let's just say I know a friend of yours. Well, I had _business_ with her; though if I'm truthful…she wasn't a very good associate," Frankie mused with a sigh staring at an imaginary imperfection on her fingernails, "and by the looks of things around here she isn't a very good friend either."

"I don't know what you are talking about…"

"Selena fucking Kyle!" Frankie barked out, impatient with the girl's stupidity, "Did you know right now she's spending her days relaxing in the lap of luxury all over Europe and spending her nights getting it hard from a billionaire? Bruce Wayne, actually- and you are still stuck here in this shithole apartment. Where is the fairness in that? Hmmm? She's not being a very good friend if you ask me…"

She shook her head, "No way, he's dead."

"Is he?" Frankie mocked with fake show of surprise, before reaching under her shirt and tossing a couple of glossy photographs at the girl's feet, "Really? He looked fine a month ago."

She watched with a laugh as the poor girl looked at the pictures of Selena and Wayne that Barsad had taken while they stayed in Florence. It was almost depressing to see her poor heart break at the betrayal of her one time friend- almost. Frankie sat back in the ratty arm chair and waited until the sheen of tears began to gather in her eyes before she spoke, "It's your lucky day, despite all this- I have a job for you."

A loud cough came from across the room as she tried to keep from crying, though the tremble was still audible in her voice, "How much does it pay?"

Frankie stood up and walked toward her, taking in the cheap gold dress and tacky makeup that the rain had streaked all over her doll like features, "More than you make picking pockets at that filthy fucking strip club." The harsh observation had the girl shrinking in shame for a minute before she stared back down at the pictures and then up to Frankie's face.

"Okay."

"Good," a cruel grin cracked across her face as she extended her hand, "Franziska Renke- nice to meet you."

"Um…Jen…Jennifer Arlecchino."

She shook her hand quickly and then sauntered past the stunned girl moving to the door, "Well, I guess we'll be seeing each other soon. Oh don't worry about keeping in touch…I'll know _just_ where to find you when I need you." Frankie turned her back and walked out before snapping her fingers and spinning around with one last smile, "Ah, yes, you can keep the pictures too."

Without another word she strolled off down the dark, narrow hallway with a hop in her step and an ominous smirk on her face. What a lost, innocent, naive little thing Ms. Arlecchino was…it would be such a shame if a creature that delicate found itself in the clutches of a monster- the things that could happen to her young, impressionable mind.

And in _this_ city there were certainly plenty of those locked away.

* * *

**Alright so a quick end note: Barsad's little jump into his native Albanian is 'my heart' which is actually a term of endearment used…but I am sure I miss-translated the tense…so anyone who knows Albanian…feel free to shout out : )**

**Also I was doing research on Selena's little friend "Jen" and supposedly she may have been modeled off of Holly Robinson, Catwoman's obscure, sometimes sidekick…but eh, if that is the case…throw that **_**right**_** out the window…**

**As always reviews are appreciated…they really are inspiration : )**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Wow…honestly I cannot believe how fast this all came out…we'll call it nerves…**

**Thank you, thank you to those who have responded to this story…reviews, follows and favorites are so, so welcome.**

**Also my very, very special thanks and love for a special pair of eyes who really helped flush this chapter out…you are the best XD**

**Own nothing at all…nope.**

* * *

"Innocence, once lost, can never be regained. Darkness, once gazed upon, can never be lost." ~ John Milton

* * *

It's wasn't that she was _afraid_ of him…fear wasn't exactly the right description- cautiously cognizant would probably be a more accurate explanation. Though there would hardly be anyone who would blame her, everything about his presence exuded a pure and undeniable dominance designed to evoke terror and dread in those who fell under his anger. But she wasn't _scared_. However she chose to rationalize the situation and her emotions, the truth remained that after knowing the man for more than a decade Franziska was still apprehensive and unsure around the enigma that was Bane.

She'd voiced her feelings on the matter to Barsad on an occasion or two, and per his usual pragmatism he had responded with a simple shrug and the observation that, "He hasn't really needed to talk to you directly before- so he doesn't, he's a quiet man."

The answer, despite its unfailing honesty had only managed to piss her off. Yes, he kept small company- she knew this because she traveled constantly with two of them- but she'd served Talia faithfully; and quite frankly, after all they had been through it would be nice to at least have the man speak her name once or twice in conversation. So, in the end, it was pride- and exhaustion that gave her the gall to do it.

Frankie sighed with a yawn as she wrapped up the large bundle in her arms and made her way up the old, wooden stairs of the abandoned factory building they currently inhabited, heading up to the roof. They had arrived in Gotham the previous evening and nerves and tension were radiating through all of them. Talia in particular had been visibly restless from the moment she'd stepped off the plane; no doubt dealing with the emotional baggage and pain from the last time she'd been in this wretched city. Though Frankie openly wondered how after spending a good deal of the nineteen hour flight from Kathmandu getting fucked within an inch of her life, in positions she didn't even know people could get into on a plane, that Talia could think about anything at all.

She quickly shook her head as a flash of lurid and detailed memory jumped to the forefront- it really wouldn't do to have something like _that _on her mind when she looked at him. My god, it was suddenly clear exactly why Talia jumped on him like a bitch in heat at any given moment. With a laugh she cleared her mind and pushed through the rusty metal door and stepped out onto the roof.

Bane was standing on the furthest corner from her, his back squared as he stared out onto the garishly bright skyline. From where she was standing Frankie could see a long piece of bright red yarn dangling between his legs, and with the way that his elbows were bent in she could tell that he was most likely crocheting with his fingers. It had to be the most curious habit she'd ever seen- for such an immense, masculine man to be so _domestic_; but from what Talia had told her over the years, what had originally been a skill that was a necessity in the prison had grown into a way for him to calm his nerves and relax his body.

When she'd made it a few feet from his looming form, she cleared her throat with a small cough. "Nice night."

A silent nod was her only reply and for a minute Frankie wanted to turn back around and ignore the entire idea of speaking with him. But as he turned to look at her with a small hint of impatience in his focused hazel eyes she thought the better of it. "I, well a little gopher of mine, was doing a bit of research on our plan and stumbled across something I thought you might like to have back."

Frankie tore off the simple brown paper wrapper around the package in her arms and presented it to him with an uncomfortable smile on her face. Bane cocked his head and turned to look at the bundle of leather in her arms, surveying it closely- before reaching out with a large hand to grab the shearling wool lined collar of his old long coat. He was silent as he examined the article of clothing, strong fingers delicately rubbing the fabric.

"Someone had actually taken it from the street in front of City Hall and was _selling_ it online," she was speaking now just to hear herself talk, the quiet making her uneasy, "wanted two million dollars for it- I talked him down to $450 thousand." Frankie shook her head, "Though I ended up getting it for free when we finally met up to do the sale, you know, dark alleys aren't the safest place in this city."

His eyebrow rose up with a quirk of interest at her remark, and she smiled sheepishly, "Old habits die hard I guess. Anyway, I just thought you should have it…its cold here in October." She took a deep breath and after another beat of silence she turned to walk away.

The sudden pressure on her shoulder almost had her jumping twenty feet in absolute shock. Frankie turned quickly with her ice blue eyes wide open to see Bane's large hand resting there, completely dwarfing her small, thin frame. He tilted his head with a gentle nod, before his deep voice rasped out with a hint of what could have been pride- or amusement, "Thank you, Franziska."

For the first time in a very long time a huge and completely genuine smile cracked across her face. "Don't mention it," she answered before turning around and leaving him to his thoughts. And though it had only been three words and five minutes of awkwardness, it was worth the effort.

* * *

Talia took a deep breath and rested her head on her knees, trying to get herself to relax. Her mind was racing and her body was weak, she'd felt it the moment she walked off the plane yesterday and breathed the polluted air- and it was getting steadily worse, as if the city itself was poison to her body. She ran her hands through her hair and stared around their new surroundings; it wasn't much to write home about, but she had to admit that Frankie had managed to acquire a decent amount of furniture and equipment to turn the old, abandoned cotton mill into a solid base. Though it was far from the luxury she had enjoyed once upon a time.

She flopped back on the bare mattress and stared up at the high wooden ceiling letting the silliest thoughts race around her head. She half wanted to go back to Miranda Tate's old apartment and see if it had been refurnished, or better yet, maybe Bruce Wayne's penthouse. It would be rather nice to enjoy another little 'jaunt' with Bane at the billionaire's expense; but, unlike last time, there just wasn't going to be enough time. They were putting their plan into action tomorrow night and would be gone by the following sunset- nothing but a fast assault that no one would ever see coming.

Frankie and Barsad had briefed them earlier about what they had uncovered during their four month reconnaissance mission, and the swift return of Gotham to its former life of corruption and neglect had been startling. While the city had recovered quickly on the outside, it was still rotting away underneath. With the Dent Act and its harsh punishments repealed the police had their hands full combating the reemergence of the mob and once again crime was flourishing.

But perhaps the most interesting thing of all was the reappearance of the Batman- and with Bruce Wayne out of the picture; this new imposter was certainly an interesting development. He must have actually passed his mantel on to another poor soul before he left the city like a coward; and from what her friend's eyes and ears had gleaned, unlike his predecessor who was trained by the League of Shadows- this incarnation was brash, impatient and idealistic.

Bane had been less than impressed with the information, declaring it to be meaningless; but Talia was more hesitant. They did not need anything detracting from their objective. Her temples throbbed again sharply with the pang of an oncoming headache and she suddenly felt trapped to the point of suffocation- she needed to get out, she needed air. There was no way that she was going to be able to sleep tonight and be ready for what was ahead if she remained this tense. Perhaps just a quick run through the city would help to calm her mind. Talia stood quickly and grabbed her dark hooded jacket, turning to walk out the door just as Bane walked in.

He took one look at her appearance and narrowed his eyes; the tone of his voice was tinged with unrest and apprehension, "Are you are going somewhere?"

With a long, loud sigh she closed her eyes, trying to control the rush of emotion and desperation that had her on the verge of tears; instead Talia spoke quietly, hoping he would understand her discomfort, "I need to get out of here for a moment and clear my thoughts, my friend. I cannot breathe; it is as if this city is _killing_ me."

Bane studied her for a second without saying a word, before walking over and cupping her face in one of his large palms, raising her chin to meet his stare as his thumb rubbed her cheek softly. They were both silent for a long pause, until he tilted his head slightly and the growing traces of a smile could be seen behind the mask, "Can I interest you in a ride around the city? It has been a long time since I have felt you wrapped around my waist, little one."

She smiled at the playfully suggestive quip, standing up on her toes to pull his face down to hers so she could softly kiss his metal mouth, so very thankful at the sense of relaxation his mere presence provided, "Mmm, as I remember I was wrapped around you yesterday for quite some time, my love…" Her voice trailed off as a startlingly vivid memory of him standing behind her burying himself deep inside her body as she lay draped across the plush, leather seat of the posh airplane assailed her mind. She felt her insides instantly throb in response and her face burned with heat and desire, as her blue eyes lazily blinked up to meet his it only took a moment to know he was feeling it too. If they didn't leave right now, they never would- and she needed it. With a great deal of effort Talia cleared her dry throat and continued speaking, "A ride around the city sounds like just what I need tonight."

His hand tightened around her neck as his fingers tangled in her hair, giving it a gentle yet possessive tug, "As you wish."

* * *

It _was_ just what she needed.

Thanks to a shiny, rather new, black Ducati 1098 that Frankie had felt the need to commandeer during her reconnaissance a few weeks ago, and a couple of full face helmets; the two of them were able to fly through the city streets with perfect anonymity. Talia sighed deeply as she snuggled closer to Bane's warm back and listened to the wind rushing around her, it wasn't late enough for them to completely let loose- but there wasn't a good deal of traffic on the road at 11pm on a Wednesday night either.

It was strange to see the city like this again, sights and sounds that she had lived with everyday for eight long years now seemed completely foreign; as if she was feeling a warped sense of déjà vu- or an out of body experience. Although the more she thought about it, the truer assessment was- _she_ had never lived here at all- the time spent here had been lived as another woman, as Miranda Tate. And as that became further and further removed from her psyche she felt less and less connection to her recollections…simply making it another time and another place.

He weaved through the various twists and turns of the downtown area, by the Stock Exchange building and past City Hall- she instinctively tightened her grip around him and shut her eyes forcefully as they drove over the same overpass she had careened off of with the bomb not long ago. Bane seemed to sense her distress immediately, and Talia relaxed as she felt a gloved hand grab hers from its place around his stomach and squeeze gently. The movement was simple, but said everything that needed to be said- their failure was in the past and now they were safe, together, and would endure.

And they _would_ endure. She was her father's daughter and she was not afraid of anything. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes she had returned from her defeat stronger than ever; the pain and suffering that once controlled her every thought and drove her emotions was now completely under her power, and she was beginning to harness it- to use it. Soon, there would be no one in the world who could stand against the two of them.

With the anxiety of the moment behind her, Talia was able to turn and look out at what had been rebuilt in the two year span that she and her friend were licking their own wounds. All of the large office buildings that had sustained damage had been completely fixed, and even the four major bridges in and out of the city were repaired. To the average person it would seem that Gotham was thriving, but it only took a moment to peer into the alley ways to see that poverty and disillusionment was still alive and well. Her musings were cut off as her friend took a sharp turn down a narrow, dark access road and turned off the engine.

Talia climbed off the bike and took off her helmet with a puzzled glance, "Why have we stopped?"

He gingerly removed his own helmet, making sure to take care over the mask before staring skyward, "I thought you would enjoy taking a stop to see your former place of _employment_."

She followed his gaze upwards and immediately recognized the tinted glass façade of the Wayne Tower building. A frown automatically crossed her face at the sight; everything was just as it was before the liberation- as if nothing had ever happened. She was so engrossed in her disgust that she missed the moment her friend lunged at her; suddenly Talia felt hands tighten on her shoulders and her back slammed hard into the wall behind her. A whoosh of air puffed out from her lungs as she stared up at his face, and any bit of confusion and anger at being handled so firmly died with the look she found in his eyes.

It was absolutely ravenous- dark and hungry- as if he had been months without her body instead of hours. Without a word her roughly lifted her by the thighs and wrapped her legs around his waist, grinding himself hard against her center with a low growl. Talia had to bite her lip to keep from crying out as he began to rut against her, using the rigid line of his cock and the raised seam of the inside of her dark cargo pants to rub hard against her clit.

She inhaled sharply through her nose as she tried to control the hammering of her heart and the spike of adrenaline that energized every hair on her body. Bane had always been insatiable where their physical relationship was concerned, but recently, since their recovery, it had become all consuming- he was a man possessed. Perhaps it was because he had always been forced by some reason or another to reign in his desire, be it her father's presence or the need to keep hidden away from Miranda Tate, but whatever the explanation, he now refused any sort of limitations on their relationship. He took her when he wanted, as often as he wanted, and where he wanted…and judging by his recent actions on the plane yesterday, and now in a partially darkened alley in downtown Gotham- he didn't care who saw them either.

"I want to hear you, little one," Bane commanded as his movements against her increased in both speed and pressure. His voice and the feeling of cold metal of his mask vibrating against overheated, sensitive skin of her neck sent another shock of bliss shooting through her body, "Let me hear the sound of your pleasure above all of this tasteless noise- drown out this pathetic city."

A flood of liquid lust surged through her at the thought of being caught like this, and as he rocked against her with a particularly vicious and slow grind she couldn't stop the loud gasp that escaped her lips. Memories of their passionate reunion down in the sewers in front of his men crept back into the corners of her mind, serving to add even more fuel to the fire that was raging in her core. Between her own body and the heat from his, she was beginning to lose her mind- and while what he was doing to her was insanely arousing, she needed to feel him inside of her.

Talia wriggled against him trying to free her hands in an attempt to get at his belt. Just as she began to pull at the leather he suddenly seized both of her wrists tightly in one hand, pulling them over her head and causing her body to stretch out- arching her back like a bow before slamming them back into the cold, glass wall with a snarl. Her eyes widened in shock as a stab of pain worked its way down her arms to mingle with the pleasure in the rest of her body, kicking the sensations to another level. She moaned loudly as his darkened eyes locked onto hers, full of devastating need and absolute covetous possession. He _owned_ her- wholly and completely and as another shameless cry spilled out of her mouth she wanted the world to know it.

A tell tale burn started to form deep in her stomach and she gasped loudly as it spread out across her skin like a hot fever- just as she felt the excruciatingly powerful feeling of her climax start to unfurl, a pained, panicked shout cut through the couple's intimate moment. In an instant their hypersensitive instincts kicked in, Talia's mind crystallized into focus as her friend deftly dropped her and spun to face the source of the commotion.

Her blue eyes focused through the darkness on the group of three men that stood at the end of the alley, taking in the fact that while they were dressed in white collared shirts and vests like the attendants that normally serviced the building- the dingy, rumpled state of the clothes alerted her that these were _not_ chauffeurs and valets. But it was the form on the ground that caught her attention; the obvious victim of a robbery, the wealthy business man tried to shield himself as best he could as the men closed in.

"Take my wallet," the calm, soothing voice spoke out trying to remain composed as the fear began to take over, "I won't give you any trouble."

Later when recounting the events, she would blame it on the orgasmic tension still coiled tight in her body- but the second that dulcet tone rang in her ears she had already stepped around Bane and took off down the alley towards them. It was Lucius Fox.

The three street thugs were no match for her, even in her less than ideal conditioning. Between a couple of well placed kicks and a knife to the throat, they took off without even putting up a fight. Talia quickly crouched down to help the older man to his feet, scanning his face and body quickly for any broken bones or other injuries. In fact it wasn't until he said something did she recognize exactly what she had done.

"Miranda Tate?" The confusion in his voice snapped her out of the trance and sent an ice cold shock through her system. She had exposed herself, jeopardizing both the plan and her protector's safety- what had she been thinking, "What are you doing here?"

"Miranda Tate is dead," she answered automatically; the iciness in her voice was not missed, neither was the genuine hurt in his gentle brown eyes. Talia shook her head with a sad smile when she realized just what had made her help him. He had always cared for her, looked out for her interests and her well being when Daggett's attitude, or even Wayne's apathy had made her life a living hell. He was a good man in a city of criminals- and for that reason alone he deserved to be saved.

"You should not be punished for who you serve," she spoke softly. "You have always been kind to me when you did not have to- and it will always be remembered." Before he could say anything more, Talia turned swiftly on her heels and ran back to Bane and the bike; her friend remained obscured by the shadows until they pulled on their helmets and quickly fled the scene.

On the ride back to the warehouse she did not have to read her protector's mind to know that he was now anxious about the situation she had put them in. Revealing her presence to Lucius no doubt meant that whispers of their activity would now reach the ears of Commissioner Gordon and from there- possibly Wayne himself. It was a constraint that hadn't been anticipated and now put them both under considerable pressure. Her head spun with the implications of her actions, but in a moment of clarity she reminded herself that it would all be over soon- after tomorrow night the Gotham Police would have much more to worry about than the two of them.

* * *

"So, like, after tomorrow when this job is done, you are just going to leave?" Jen questioned with a loud snap of her gum, "Like, for good?"

Frankie rolled her eyes and clenched her jaw tightly at the young girl's complete and utter destruction of the English language; it wasn't even her native tongue and she _still _managed to enunciate the words with more skill. With a dry, fake smile she answered her, "Yes. After tomorrow night our little arrangement will be over and you'll be free to pursue whatever gainful employment you choose."

The blonde frowned at her answer and continued to chew loudly on her gum, staring absently at the floor and her scuffed boots. "Oh, that kinda sucks," she finally mumbled to no one in particular.

Frankie stared at her with a rather interested look on her face; she was really _disappointed _they weren't going to see each other again? It didn't make a whole lot of sense. She hadn't exactly been nice to her over the past few months; in fact she'd treated her with such disregard and disdain that she actually made Talia at her worst look like Mother Teresa. Her cold eyes narrowed in suspicion as she verbalized her thoughts, "What exactly have you enjoyed about this arrangement? I would have thought you would be thrilled to get the fuck away from me."

Jen shrugged her shoulders, her eyes firmly riveted to the ground, "I dunno, it was like, nice to have someone tell me what to do…" she paused for a minute and looked up at Frankie with a defeated look in her big, green eyes, "I mean, like, what else am I going to do now?"

"I am sure there are plenty of uses for a cute blonde around town," she needled with a smirk, taking in the girl's interesting appearance. Her fluffy mane of bleached hair had been pulled into a high ponytail and garish amounts of kohl black liner surrounded her eyes, making them seem even larger and more doll like; and her lips were painted bright red- she looked like a cartoon character of some sort. "After all you must have had a plan for yourself before I came along," Frankie finished.

In an instant the girl's face seemed to flash with an angry fire, a furious scowl replacing the gum chewing, valley girl smile. "Yea, I did," she snarled, "I was supposed to have a 'clean slate' with my best friend and get the fuck out of this place."

Her anger and hatred for Selena Kyle was like music to Frankie's ears, and instead of giving reassuring words and comfort, she instead poured fuel on the fire, "But she left you behind to rot." She kicked away from the table she was leaning against to close the distance between them, making sure to get close enough to the angry girl to make her point heard, "Although personally, _I_ think she did you a favor. You are free to do whatever you want now; you don't owe her, or anyone else, anything. Just think of all you could accomplish with a little imagination and the right help."

Before Jen could reply to her suggestion the loud noise of a motorcycle engine cut through the silence. Frankie turned around just as Barsad appeared, climbing down the stairs from his perch on the roof, rifle in hand. "They are back," he added unnecessarily.

"Who's back?"

A sarcastic laugh puffed through Frankie's mouth as she patted the naïve girl on the shoulder, "Your real bosses, hope you don't scare easily."

* * *

Later that night Talia stood silently by one of the massive mill windows staring out into the darkness towards the city; her body still too wired and restless to sleep, though her mind was blessedly calm. The chill in the fall air nipped at her bare feet and legs and she curled tightly into the amazing warmth of her friend's wool lined coat. As the soft familiar fabric caressed her bare skin, she made a mental note to thank Frankie for her resourcefulness- it really was her favorite article of his clothing.

The air shifted around her and she couldn't help but smile as she felt her protector's presence looming silently behind her. He didn't speak a word, instead he merely pulled the coat off of her shoulders and put it on before pulling her back into his arms; holding her securely against the comforting heat of his body as she wrapped herself in the remaining fabric. His head dropped to nuzzle against her neck affectionately and she immediately leaned into the touch with a contented sigh. Though they hadn't been intimate physically tonight, the gentle skin to skin contact they now shared was just as satisfying. Talia relished the new found freedom of simply existing at his side, with nothing else to consume her interest but the enormity of his adoration and the calm of his essence.

A blinding white light suddenly illuminated the sky and both of their heads inclined in unison to take in the massive symbol that shined in place of the missing moon. She felt his arms tighten their grip and she finally spoke with a whisper, "They have no idea what he has done to them."

"No, little one," he answered lowly, "but they will."

The reassuring tone of his voice finally gave her the last bit of peace she needed, a yawn fell loudly from her mouth and her eyes grew heavy. It wasn't long now, one more night and she would be forever free from this miserable place…. just one more night.

* * *

**Things are a foot in Gotham…no doubt about that…hold on 'cause things are going to get…stranger. **

**Please, leave a thought or two in the little box…**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Woah…crazy writing lately, I blame it on the excitement of my new nephew! So I will harness this now before I crash and burn with exhaustion soon XD.**

**Random history related note for this chapter, I was reading up on Arkham Asylum and was amazed to see that it was based on a hospital in a fiction novel…and that was based on Danvers Hospital in Massachusetts. I actually visited this place before it was dismantled as well as the Worcester State Hospital…go check them out…my god what scary looking places, not quite sure how this was going to cure insanity!**

**Thank you, thank you to all that have reviewed and read…means a lot…**

**And to my dear, all this crazy is for you! (I am too giddy to wait for an edit...so I totally own the errors...all of them!)  
**

**Still own nothing at all…**

* * *

"Sometimes human places create inhuman monsters." ~Stephen King

* * *

The night was eerily serene and dark, not a spot of wind or even a sliver of moon to cut through the inky blackness. As it always was before a devastating storm, it was perfectly calm- and there _was_ a storm coming, there was no doubt about that. Talia focused her glance on the head of their small group; Barsad was leading with a dim flashlight to light their way and Frankie was following close behind- her hand was less than gently wound into the jacket of her new young comrade. She and Bane were a few steps behind them, the artificial light unnecessary for their eyes to navigate through the dark tunnels.

The poor blonde girl tripped clumsily over her feet on the uneven ground and Frankie snapped at her for the second or third time in as many minutes, the amount of aggravation and impatience in her tone was even more than normal. Talia couldn't help but laugh at the girl's misfortune- and she thought _she'd_ been tough to work for. But it wasn't exactly her fault either; the path they were on wasn't an easy one to follow. They were deep underground in the unending maze of sewer tunnels beneath the streets of Gotham trying to move towards the river. It was the only access point to the Narrows, and their ultimate goal, Arkham itself.

Ironically it was her father that was responsible for their current situation and the difficulty of the mission. Ra's al Ghul had effectively destroyed the small island of slums twelve years ago when he gassed the entire area with Crane's fear toxin; and when confronted with the monumental and seemingly impossible task of regaining control of the area, the Mayor and the then Police Commissioner decided to wall off the entire place and effectively create a massive high security asylum. It had actually been a rather successful solution to the problem of crime in the city, though that changed completely with the enactment of the Dent Act following the D.A's untimely demise.

For the Dent Act to be considered legally sound it required prisoners who were deemed 'sane' by the courts. As a result Arkham had been nearly emptied of inmates and the entire island's worth of criminals were shipped over to Blackgate Penitentiary. Commissioner Gordon assumed that the scum of the city would never see the outside of their cells- and if it wasn't for her protector, he may have been right. But now, after all of the dust of failed liberations and ambitions had settled they were left with nothing more than a rusty, metal grate that blocked them from the island.

"This is it."

Barsad spoke up as they stood at a strange two way intersection underground. Behind them was sleek modern concrete and ahead was a combination of brick and masonry that was indicative of the 19th century. The river could be heard rushing all around them and Talia's eyes instinctively searched to find the source of it, unable to stop the feeling of claustrophobia that nagged at her incessantly. She seriously wondered how, after their time in the Pit, that Bane was able to have spent so long in the sewers without losing his sanity. As always, he _knew_ what was plaguing her mind and it wasn't long before she felt his fingers on the nape of her neck in a gentle and reassuring caress.

"This tunnel runs from the river to the basement of the asylum," the sniper elaborated with a sweep of his flashlight, "and if the building schematics are correct, following this will put us in the boiler room."

Talia looked over her shoulder at her friend who took in the dank, small passage with stark interest before looking back at Barsad, "Good work, brother."

Frankie spun her guest around and stared at the frightened girl with a menacing snarl on her face, "You will wait right here for us, do you understand me?" When she didn't get an immediate reply she grabbed her chin tightly in her hands and pulled her head up to meet hers, "I asked you a question- _Jennifer_- fucking answer me."

"I get it," Jennifer grumbled quietly. "Can I like, have a flashlight, geez?"

A cold, angry glare flashed across Frankie's face as she loudly dropped her pack and fished through it for her large, silver Mag-lite; handing it over with a dramatic sigh, "Is that better?"

Talia took this as the time to intervene before the girl had her eyes removed by the volatile German, she cleared her throat and Frankie instantly stood down. "We will not be long," she spoke smoothly, her voice instantly commanding the respect the Demonhead deserved, "one or two hours at the most- be ready."

The girl nodded instantly at Talia's words, this time making sure that her reply was heard, "I'll be right here."

With that argument settled, the four of them moved into the old, brick tunnel with more than a little trepidation. Talia scrunched up her nose at the awful smell; dank, moldy and wet- it was almost suffocating. For a moment she half wondered if it was dangerous to be breathing in the air, after all these passages had been down here and walled off for the better part of a hundred years. But despite the uncomfortable and disgusting environment, the design of the island itself was the reason this mission was possible at all.

Arkham Asylum was built at the turn of the 19th century by an industrious doctor, Amadeus Arkham, who watched his mother helplessly fall victim to mental illness. Her suicide was the guiding force that inspired him to build the hospital using the most state of the art designs. He modeled the hospital after the popular Kirkbride Plan, mimicking other institutions that used imposing castle like walls and ornate towers to project a sense of order and security. The sprawling Victorian structure and the location on the Narrows Island was utilized to keep the patients isolated from the city, while a maze of underground passages connected the hospital to the river to keep it absolutely self sufficient. In fact, the constant need for water in the facility was the reason that the massive city water mains flowed through the area. It was this very feature that her father had utilized during his failed siege-fate, it seemed, was ironic after all.

A loud cough snapped Talia out of her thoughts; she turned just in time to see Frankie double over, bracing her hand against the wall before violently vomiting. The blonde remained crouched in a ball as she heaved up the entire contents of her stomach; her body was shaking like a leaf.

Barsad immediately knelt at her side, his hand rubbing over her back in soothing circles, "Are you alright?" The worry was evident in his tone as she leaned back, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as his went to her forehead, running over the clammy pale skin, "I tested these tunnels for methane and gas levels, we should be safe."

"I'm fine," Frankie smiled with a deep sigh as she calmed herself, though the emotion didn't register past her curled lips, "I think I am coming down with something, I haven't felt right since we landed." Barsad opened his mouth to ask another question, and before he could do so she stood up, straightened up her leather jacket and continued walking; effectively ending any sort of further discussion on the matter.

* * *

After another half hour of walking they found themselves staring at a rusted out, but still quite solid, metal door- this was the entrance to the boiler room. Talia stared ahead silently, as first Barsad, and then Bane investigated the structural integrity of their obstacle. As any would anticipate, it was locked from the inside, and after a quick observation they noticed a small opening in the masonry at the top corner of the roof- just big enough for one person to wriggle through.

"I'll fit," Talia announced as she pointed to the hole.

Frankie loudly cleared her throat, "Please. You and that _chest_ of yours wouldn't make it." She stripped off her coat and handed it off to Barsad; but not before taking a small leather satchel and a thin pen light out of the pocket. She pulled at the sleeves of her plain, white t-shirt with a sigh, "I will do it."

The snide, joking insult went unanswered as she walked up to eye the hole with a bit of scrutiny before turning back to look at Bane, "Can you give me a lift?" He nodded and grabbed her waist gently, the massive span of his hands circling around her slim form almost completely as he lifted her up and into the darkness.

* * *

Frankie tried to suppress a sneeze as she climbed over the frame of the door and dropped onto the other side. The light was exceedingly dim on this side, and the tiny flashlight cast a pathetic beam- what she wouldn't give for the two foot torch she'd left with that idiot girl. She leaned in close to stare at the lock and recognized immediately that it was a simple, old fashioned deadbolt. With quick fingers she put the small light between her teeth and opened the leather pouch, taking out a well used set of lock picks. She was so engrossed in her work she didn't hear the footsteps until they were right behind her.

The skin on the back of Frankie's neck instantly rose up, setting every hair on end as she spun around to meet the source of the commotion. In the weak light she squinted as she tightened her hands on the lock picks, realizing with a wash of terror that she'd left her knife and her gun on the other side of the door. Finally a thin figure emerged from the shadows and ambled closer, it took only a moment for the blonde to place the cold blue eyes that were staring at her- it was Crane. Though this wasn't the man she had come to know and deal with over the past few years, he looked, for lack of a better word…sick. His brown suit pants were torn and wrinkled, and he was wearing a thread bare, over-sized red sweater over a dirty, white collared shirt even his glasses were missing. But it was his eyes that literally froze the blood in her veins, dark circles sat beneath the blood-shot orbs and the look within them- pure madness.

Her hardwired sarcasm jumped to the forefront, though the tone was admittedly tinged with fear, "Back at the hospital again,_ Herr_ Doctor?"

His head tilted sharply sideways as he took her in with interest for a minute, before a horrible grin split his face, "Sorry, the Doctor isn't here right now." His voice was strange, detached and horrifically lyrical.

Frankie tightened her grip on the small metal hook as her eyes darted frantically back and forth between the hole in the roof she jumped from and the locked door behind her, she was trapped. "What the fuck are you saying you lunatic," the panic was now perfectly evident.

"Oh….oh…oh…is that _fear_ in your voice?" A macabre sense of elation suddenly lit up his face as he moved even closer to her, "Johnny was _right_ about you blondie, you _are_ beautiful…and I bet you look even better when you_ scream_…"

Without warning he lunged at her and Frankie responded out of pure instinct; stepping quickly to the side, balling up her fist and letting it fly. She grazed the side of his cheekbone with her knuckles- enough to push him back but not enough to stop him. In a second he was on her again, throwing her to the ground, his normally frail limbs given almost inhuman strength by his insanity and as his bony fingers found her throat she managed to scream out for Barsad. She could hear him banging hard against the door, yelling her name with a frantic yell- calling out to her, telling her to hang on.

Frankie gasped and choked for air as he clamped down on her neck like a vise, strangling the life out of her. She tried to thrash her body around violently to free herself as blackness crawled across the corners of her vision, her fingers clawed at his- drawing blood, but to no avail. He was relentless, smiling the entire time, "Come on," he taunted, "just give us one _little_ scream!"

Just as she began to slip out of it, a massive boom echoed through the tunnel as Bane's huge form burst through, shattering the metal door from its rusty hinges. He took one look at the scene in front of him and pulled Crane off of her by the scruff of his shirt like a rag doll and tossed him hard against the brick wall. The thin man hit with a thud and collapsed, unmoving, into a crumpled heap on the ground.

She rubbed her throat as she tried to control her breathing, each breath of air feeling like a razor in her throat. Talia and Barsad were on her immediately, searching her body anxiously looking for any injuries. Frankie waved them off as she stood up, "I'm alright," she coughed, "crazy fuck caught me by surprise."

Barsad gently moved her long hair off of her shoulder and gingerly touched the skin on the column of her throat, Frankie could tell by the look in his tender blue eyes that she was going to have a nasty collar of bruises as a souvenir of her ordeal. Without a word he leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips, before pulling away. She hadn't expected the overtly public gesture of affection, and she blushed as Talia's eyes lit on her with a spark of fascination and Bane looked on without a word. Apparently they were much more comfortable with the thought of voyeurs than she was.

A low groan from behind them broke the moment, and Frankie started with genuine surprise when the always calm and collected sniper wheeled around and pounced on Crane's prone form. Barsad fisted his hands in the front of his sweater, dragging the man to his feet and slamming him into the wall, "I should tear you apart for daring to touch her!" His voice was an almost guttural growl, "Give me a reason why I shouldn't spill out your guts right here like a fucking animal."

The doctor sucked a pained breath through his nose before speaking, "Because _I_ didn't do anything." His voice had returned to the normal cold, clinical and uninterested tone, "Now could you stop slamming my head into the brick- a concussion is hardly conducive to a lucid, sane thought process."

It was the pressure of Bane's large hand on his shoulder that finally calmed him down. Barsad let go and shoved him away with a dark look, "There will not be a next time."

Crane said nothing as he adjusted his shirt and collar, as if he was still wearing a tie and in a suit instead of rags. As he began to meticulously pick at imaginary pieces of lint on his sweater, Talia narrowed her eyes and stepped forward, "What are you doing down here?"

His icy, blue eyes snapped up to meet hers, "I have no idea what he was doing down here." When she shot him a confused look he continued with a noticeable tinge of irritation in his voice, "_He's_ been in control since last Wednesday shortly after noon, so again, I have no idea what he was up to. Though now that I see you people down here, I assume it was probably the same goal."

It took a moment for his words to sink in, and when she finally realized just what he was talking about Talia couldn't help a very small pang of pity. Thanks to Wayne poisoning his mind with his own fear toxin, the doctor was now a slave to the whims of The Scarecrow- his psychotic alter ego. Though with the general contempt that Jonathan Crane seemed to have for everything and everybody around him her sympathy was certainly limited.

"Can you get us to the cell?" She questioned crossing her arms.

Crane seemed to take offense to the question and answered with a roll of his eyes and a huffy snort, "I was the youngest head psychiatrist in the history of this institution- I think I can manage to walk you a few hundred yards and unlock a few doors, don't you think?"

* * *

True to his word he led them through the massive boiler room and into the basement of the hospital, his head and shoulders seemed to tick a little with agitation as they passed a large black water pipe. Talia's sharp eyes caught the movement and wondered if seeing the sight of his own failure wasn't a bit too much for him to deal with. She half wondered if seeing the inside of the Wayne Enterprises board room or City Hall would do the same thing to her.

They moved to a service elevator and he stepped inside, reaching into the pockets of his dirty pants and pulling out a large key ring, and after fiddling with it for several minutes finally put one in the control box and looked up at the four reluctant soldiers who hadn't moved a step.

"Well?" He sighed pointing next to him, "Are you coming in or what?"

They complied with reluctance and as she stood with her back to Bane's chest she felt his arm gently circle around her waist pulling her close to him. She smiled as the fingers slowly crept up to burrow underneath the hem of her black jacket and shirt, stroking the soft skin of her stomach. Talia tried to distract herself from the moment by engaging their would-be tour guide, "How is it that you still have keys to this place?"

Crane lolled his head to the side and a small, but genuine smile played on his lips, "You'd be surprised how lax things are around here; Jeremiah Arkham is just the latest in a long line of idiot directors who miss the simplest of details. Take their patient location process for example: he still subscribes to the same outdated theory that his great-grandfather did."

He paused for a moment and Talia waited patiently as the doors opened after only going up two floors- they were still technically in the sub-basement, far below the main wings of the hospital.

"The Kirkbride Plan called for the most disturbed patients to be housed as far away from the public and the general population as possible; this was done under the assumption that they would have less opportunity to cause unrest in the hospital. Cause as we all know, if there is anything that upsets balance in an insane asylum it's stirring up the crazies."

The group filed out and Crane stopped, looking up at an old, wire covered clock and noted the time- a little after 2 am. "Though you have to wonder about the therapeutic value of locking up the truly deranged in a basement dungeon- I myself was a fan of integration and pharmacological therapy to achieve a semblance of order…but, they disagreed with my assessment."

His tirade seemed to be trailing off and she had to bite back a laugh as she looked at everyone's faces: Frankie rolled her eyes annoyed; Barsad seemed to not even recognize that he was speaking, and her protector had a quirked up eyebrow and a puzzled look on his face- as if he had no idea at all how to take the little man.

But Crane seemed to pay no mind, squaring off his shoulders as if he was still a doctor in residence, and turned down the dingy hallway, "Well then, follow me."

* * *

It was completely silent- not a single sign of another human being.

The only noises to be heard were the constant clunk and hiss of the steam pipes that delivered the building's heat and the occasional squeak of a rubber soled boot. Talia took note as she passed empty cell after empty cell, that even after the siege it would appear that the hospital was still in disuse. Commissioner Gordon had been lobbying heavily to close the institution in favor of repairing the high walls and bars of Blackgate…but it seemed that at least one inmate was _not_ part of that plan.

"We won't have to worry about seeing security, or even and orderly this far down. I have heard they leave him unattended down here for days; though he's deloused, given a haircut and shaved every week or so," Crane spoke, his voice no more than a subdued mumble, "I have no idea how he is still alive."

They finally stopped at a heavy steel door with nothing but a small 5'x5' window that was covered with a sliding metal plate and a trap door level with the floor that would have been used to slide a food tray inside the room. On the outside there was a Plexiglas holder with only a number and one initial: _Patient 64389000- J_.

"You do realize what you are doing tonight cannot be undone." The doctor fiddled with his keys for another moment before turning to face both Bane and Talia with a grim face, "At least when Pandora opened the box and unleashed evil on the world she was ignorant as to its contents."

Talia opened her mouth to reply before her friend spoke, his deep voice calm and authoritative as ever as he reasoned with absolute conviction, "Yes. But you forget doctor, when the plague and darkness had been released she was left with only one thing in the pithos container- _hope_. We are merely giving the people of Gotham back the ability to recognize their full potential, by seeing the worst."

"However you want to look at it," he answered tritely, sliding a thick key into the lock and pulling the door back with a grunt.

Whatever she had been geared up to see, even perhaps the devil himself, would not have prepared Talia for seeing _him _for the first time. Like any man given a legend to live up to she was surprised when she saw the reality of the Joker in the flesh. He was sitting on a bare, filthy mattress on the concrete floor, cross legged and wearing the common orange jumpsuit worn by all of the inmates and a pair of simple slip on canvas shoes. His head hung down, face obscured by curly strands of greasy, dirty blonde hair and his bony arms were resting out and together, as if handcuffed. He looked thinner than she remembered from news cameras and mug shots; ten years in Arkham had taken their toll on his body- his mind was another question all together.

"Is it time for our play date already, _Mike_?" He spoke up suddenly, his voice sounding cracked and hoarse- as if it wasn't used often. And as he slowly tilted his head up to meet them, a wide smile cracked his face revealing a mouthful of yellowing teeth, "Oh well, no one told _me_ it was- ah- _visiting_ hours."

In the light of the single fluorescent bulb that flickered over his head Talia al Ghul looked him straight in the face. He should have been handsome by conventional standards, a square jaw and a well bred, European nose- but the scars ruined it all. She'd only seen pictures of him in outlandish make-up, but now the sallow, pale skin seemed to emphasize the poorly healed knots of scar tissue that pulled from the corners of his smile through the flesh of his cheeks. And though the Glasgow smile was unnerving it was his eyes that alarmed her the most; they were sunken in, almost ebony in the darkness- and behind the glossy portals was a window into a soul as black as the air that surrounded him.

She'd seen eyes like that before, as a child among the creatures of the Pit- the evil men who had raped and murdered her mother and tortured her protector. For the first time in a long time the daughter of the demon's head was _scared_ of another human being.

Bane stepped forward into the cell and loomed over the smaller man, his hands curling into the lapels of his coat almost instinctively, "We are not here for calling hours- we are here to liberate you."

He seemed to consider the statement for a moment before raising his arms, still keeping them together and pointing up at her friend, "Now I know _you_, you are the masked man they used to talk about…" Suddenly he jumped to his feet and began to clap a loud, slow rhythm, "I heard your speech outside Blackgate, on the _radio_ and I must say…you had me convinced."

Bane said nothing and the Joker continued to look at him, his black eyes scanning the twists and tubes of the mask with a keen interest as his body radiated a barely controlled, frenetic energy. It was strange; the whole scene looked the way Talia imagined a hyena studied a lion in the jungle, not willing to attack right away- just looking for a point of weakness it _could._

"So, uh- how did that little _plan_ to destroy Gotham work, hmm?"

The slight to her protector instantly raised her hackles and Talia spoke out of anger, completely displacing her dread, "About as well as yours did."

At her the sound of her voice he cocked his head to peer around Bane's large form and set his eyes on her, "I see…beauty _and_ the beast." He awkwardly paused for a minute before continuing pointing straight at her, "Though if anyone _else_ calls you a beast… I'll cut their faces off."

Talia's jaw clenched angrily, she was quickly getting rather sick of his unpredictable nature- and his endless goddamn talking, "We're leaving now, unless of course you'd rather stay."

He looked around at the dirty floor and the walls before replying, "I think I've had a long enough nap for now."

* * *

Her heart was racing and her anxiety was at red line- Talia absolutely hated everything about the situation, being trapped below ground with both Crane and the Joker was a recipe for disaster; but it seemed for the moment that the one thing that all of them had in common was wanting to get as far away from Arkham as fast as possible.

In fact it wasn't until she saw the dancing beam of Jennifer's flashlight in the distance that the Joker spoke again, "Look, ah, not sure what you are setting up here…but I don't _do_ plans. I just want to get out and _enjoy _life."

Bane turned back to face him and finally spoke, "We care nothing for what you do, and we have no plans for Gotham- do as you please, we leave tomorrow."

The response seemed to interest him, and he cocked his head again, "Really? Nothing?" He shrugged his shoulders and went silent for a few seconds as he continued to follow them down the path. Suddenly he stopped in his tracks and snapped loudly, "Oh…I see it now… you want me to bring a little _chaos_ into the city- give the bat something to do!"

"Whatever you please," Bane repeated slowly, giving away nothing else, but Talia did not miss the hint of humor in his voice.

"Schemers."

* * *

The girl hadn't moved at all. Then again she wasn't exactly vigilant either, instead of keeping her eyes open she was playing with the flashlight and tossing stones into the slowly moving water. Frankie's loud huff came from a few steps behind her and Talia knew the unsuspecting girl was going to get it.

"Wow, great job on surveillance- way to be alert."

Jennifer started at the sound of her voice and jumped nearly a foot in the air, sending the Mag-lite crashing to the ground, "I'm sorry!"

The look of absolute panic on her face only got worse as she turned to look at the group and their newest member, she swallowed hard- but the shaking of the beam of light broadcast her emotions like a megaphone.

"Now, now," Frankie scolded walking up and putting an arm around the girl, "there is no need to be afraid; I am sure you'll be just fine. Besides, you have a present for him- right in your little backpack."

The sarcastic tone of her voice only seemed to make things worse, and as the Joker stepped out of the shadows and focused in on the poor thing, she was almost convulsing with fear and tears filled her eyes, "Why are you doing this to me?"

The blonde woman shrugged, "Because you need it, _Jennifer_." Frankie grabbed her and moved her toward the now, very interested man, before sliding the pack off her shoulders and handing it over. Even after he'd taken the bag Frankie remained right behind her, effectively cutting off any sort of escape. Like some sort of perverse Christmas morning he tore into the bag, ripping out a wrinkled, mass of purple fabric and a Ziploc bag full of tubes of red, black and white grease paint. Frankie had managed to procure his old suit much the same way she had Bane's jacket- Ebay _really_ needed to do something about the black market criminal goods that were auctioned out of Gotham.

His face twisted into a smile as he jumped up and down with manic glee, "Ohhhh…._yooou_!" He pointed at the frantic girl with a laugh, "I think _you_ are my new best friend…what's your name again?"

Frankie patted her on the shoulder, "Name's Jennifer Arlecchino."

He stopped dead in for a minute before bursting into hysterical laughter, slapping his leg hard and grabbing her shoulder to support himself in an exaggerated gesture, "_Arlecchino_?!"

An instant later he cut all of the mirth out of his voice and pushed past the group with his satchel of clothes, heading towards the city as if he flipped some sort of switch on his emotions, "Well…I think this is where I leave you, ah- have _fun_." The Joker's dark eyes danced back to the cowering girl with a smile, "And I'll see _you_ soon." A peal of laughter erupted from his mouth as he ran down the tunnel at breakneck speed.

"Charming," Barsad commented dryly, "truly Demonhead, are you sure we have to wait until tomorrow to leave this place?"

Talia laughed, "Well at least we are only down to one nut," she looked over her shoulder and suddenly realized they were missing someone. "Where the hell is Crane?"

Frankie snorted, "Far away from me if he hopes to see the fucking sunrise."

They finally all turned towards the exit tunnel, taking up the same traveling order they had as they descended. As she ran over the past few moments in her head, Talia scrunched up her face in confusion- what had he found so amusing? But the care about the entire situation soon dissipated from her thoughts as she focused on the monumental achievements her and her dear friend had managed to do in such a short amount of time- and it literally felt like a huge burden was lifted off her shoulders. She would leave tomorrow with Bane and they would be free.

Arlecchino, it suddenly clicked as her years of Italian lessons came back in a rush and it quickly made perfect sense, oh that poor girl. She shook her head with a laugh and followed her friend to the surface.

_Harlequin. _

* * *

**Oh…that poor girl…I am sure she'll be fine…right?**

**Not too much longer now!**

**Anyone catch the '89 Batman movie line by the way?**

**Enjoy? I'd love to hear about it….**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Yeaaa…ok…so the week of frenetic writing hasn't stopped yet…and as a result I am pleased to give you all this little bit. I struggle to call it an actual "Chapter" as nothing really happens to advance the plot per se, but there was so much that happened in the last part that I didn't get a chance to squeeze in everything I wanted to; and I had other stuff that was just *poofed* into my mind that needed a place to live.**

**The first little interlude was heavily inspired by a scene or two from the movie V for Vendetta, and it occurred for no other reason than I was exhausted, drank too much coffee and fell asleep with the television on. Apparently the 'Inception' cast thought it was amazing that Mr. Nolan can lucidly dream (meaning he can control his dreams)…I think I one upped him…apparently I can lucid dream with characters he created…and make them do…um, **_**things**_**. : )**

**And the last little section is written completely for 'leave your sanity at the door', who has been begging and pleading, oh so convincingly for quite some time now to have a little interaction between our two resident crazies…so love, this is all for you XD.**

**Thank you, thank you to all who review, favorite and follow…always a bright spot to my day.**

**Oh…I still own nothing…at **_**all**_**…**

* * *

"I've witnessed firsthand the power of ideas. I've seen people kill in the name of them; and die defending them. But you cannot kill an idea, cannot touch it or hold it. Ideas do not bleed, it cannot feel pain, and it does not love. And it is not an idea that I love, it is a man." ~ V for Vendetta (Film)

* * *

The sky was still dark as she walked out onto the roof of their warehouse hideout to stare one last time at the city she hated. Talia breathed deep as a warm, powerful gust of wind swirled around her, taking her long hair and sending it in a chaotic dance. As the air pressure around her began to drop she relished the start of the storm- it was a fitting tribute, to stand amidst the power and fury as she left Gotham behind forever. She was light, alive and whole- a woman powerful enough for her father to be proud of, and tender enough to be her mother's daughter. She _was_ Talia al Ghul- _finally_. Another gale whipped her body as she suddenly felt a fat drop of rain fall on the side of her face, and then another; with a smile she tilted her head back and opened her arms wide, laughing with pure joy as the sky opened up in a torrential downpour.

The rain was warm for the month of October, a rare thing this far north- but so very, very common in her childhood home. Memories of her first rain storm standing in the open well of the Pit came back to her. It was Bane who had been the one to hold her frail hand as he inclined his warm, stunning face up to the sky, encouraging her to do the same. She'd asked him how the water could fall from up above- how could something so miraculous happen in a place like this.

"My mother told me that God is in the rain," he'd answered simply; she'd never forgotten it, and now as the cleansing deluge washed over her body she felt as she did that day.

Somehow over the howling wind and the pouring rain she heard his laugh. She turned around to see him standing not ten feet away in the doorway of the fire escape with his eyes focused on her and the same lightness she felt in her heart mirrored in his eyes. "So beautiful," he whispered reverently, "so, very beautiful." He stepped out into the storm and walked to meet her, the rain quickly soaking the simple back shirt he was wearing; Talia couldn't stop the flush that decorated her cheeks as it began to conform to the contours of his solid chest.

"I could say the same to you, my friend." She finally managed to say with a breathy smile as his hand came to rest on her cheek, fingers sliding back and tangling in the hair at the base of her skull, "Truthfully."

"Perhaps," he tilted her face up to meet his with a quiet chuckle, "but I'd prefer to know what you were thinking, just now. I want to know what has you smiling like that, little one.""

Talia bit her lip gently as she moved the flat of her palms to rest on his stomach, relishing instantly in the warmth and safety he provided, her voice was nothing more than a trembling whisper, "I was remembering the first time I saw the rain." A momentary wash of sadness flashed across his eyes as it always did when he recalled the hell of the Pit, before being replaced with an unparalleled depth of cherished devotion, "You told me God was in it."

Bane's eyes slid closed as he brought his other hand up to cup her entire jaw in his large palms, and though it could have easily been the elements around them, Talia knew by the hitch she saw in his breath that the wet trails falling down his cheeks were tears, "I was wrong." His voice was thick with emotion as he leaned forward, letting his forehead rest against hers, "It is _you_ who are the divine."

She wanted to tell him he _was_ wrong, that she had never been worthy of such praises- but he would never listen. And when he dropped to his knees before her, she felt her heart swell; so full of every feeling her cherished friend evoked she thought it would burst. She couldn't take anymore away from him- she would be selfish no longer. If Bane wanted to kneel at her feet as if she were a goddess, she would bestow on him a sacrament deserving of a triumphant warrior. Her hands went to the hem of her drenched sweater; peeling it off, before tossing it away and methodically stripping away every piece of clothing that hid her pale skin from his eyes, until she was left standing completely nude.

"Take me," Talia spoke with a note of command in her voice that surprised even her, "I am yours."

A low groan of desire huffed out from the behind his mask and he stood back up, quickly shucking his shirt and unbuttoning his cargo pants, letting them fall before dropping to his knees again and grabbing her waist in two handfuls. Pure liquid lust shot through her as his palms traveled around to first stroke the soft skin of her backside and then down to cup the highest part of her thighs; guiding her legs apart and pulling her toward his straining body. It was _their_ position- the first one they'd shared, and as he slowly lowered her down, inch by inch, hot and wet around his hard flesh Talia couldn't suppress the long, loud cry that escaped her lips.

When she finally sat astride him, gloriously stretched and penetrated to the hilt, she reached out to cradle his head in her hands as she brought her mouth to the grate of his muzzle- giving him the very air from her lungs as she began to move. Each gasp, moan and breath he elicited from her body was offered back up to him as if it was the sweetest honeyed wine and he drank it all down- every last drop. Talia shivered as the rain poured down on them, the cold October air hardening her nipples and raising the flesh on every inch of her skin- but she felt none of it. The fire he stoked deep inside her raged unbidden as he drove them closer and closer to completion.

"We did it, my love." She gasped out as he thrust up hard, burying himself to the limit, and holding her there as his hips rocked, "You and I."

"Yes," he answered, his movements changing again- becoming faster and more powerful as he sensed the beginning of her end, his voice taking on a raw, ragged and desperate tone that would take her over the edge, "all for you…my dear one…always for you…always."

The powerful ache in her heart suddenly transformed, blooming, as the tingles spread throughout her entire body. Not in an explosive, violent end; but instead in a long, never ending wave of pure feeling and pleasure that sent them both into a shuttering, breathless climax.

As she slowly came back down to reality again, Talia trembled boneless as she held his face between her hands; tenderly wiping the rain water from underneath his eyes and smiling at the dewy drops that stuck to his long lashes. Her lips brushed softly against his eye lids as he breathed a relaxed sigh, leaning into the gesture. They were both exhausted from the two day marathon sprint through the city, but unlike the fatigue that weighed them down the last time; it was a welcome weariness- one that stood as a reminder of accomplishments and successes, of pure satisfaction.

A violent shiver wracked through her body, and a quiet laugh filled her ears as his hands rubbed her back and her shoulders to keep the blood flowing, "I think it wise to get out of the rain; I do not wish this city to kill me again. My lifetime's worth of patience for celibate convalescence has been exhausted."

Talia giggled warmly as she kissed his metal mouth again, this time more slowly, before pulling away and nodding emphatically, "I couldn't agree more- I think _that_ would kill me, my friend."

Bane gently set her on her unsteady feet and stood, pulling up his pants, and grabbing the mass of drenched cotton that was his shirt as she picked up her own sodden pile of garments. She moved to walk away, back towards the door when he suddenly grabbed her from behind, gathering her up in his arms.

"I said it was wise to get out of the rain," he growled playfully against the sensitive skin of her neck as he held her close to his bare chest, "I didn't say I was finished with you tonight."

* * *

Frankie sat alone in the dark; slumped in the corner of what had probably been the factory foreman's private bathroom once upon a time, with tears in her eyes. She was absolutely numb with shock as she stared down at the little piece of plastic in her shaking hand that effectively signaled the single most horrific thing she had ever seen in her life.

She'd always hated the color pink, and now the stupid little plus sign in the obnoxious color that stared back at her was just further proof of why. Her hands buried themselves in her hair as she clutched tightly at her head, how the fuck had this happened? Well, not literally of course- she was pretty aware the fact that Barsad had been on her like a rabbit for the past few months was the _actual_ cause.

But why now? They had been doing this for almost three years- what had changed?

A fresh wave of nausea hit her and she leaned over the toilet, dry heaving as the tears began to flow. There was just no way this could or would happen, there was no space to go back to the League of Shadows with a _child_. Frankie wiped her eyes and stood up, tossing the applicator into a hole in the wall so it wouldn't be discovered and flushing the toilet.

She gently blotted her face with her hands trying to get rid of the red, puffy blotches- it would be a dead giveaway that something was wrong and she just didn't feel like dealing with it at the moment. Though she knew the second she walked out of the bathroom Barsad was going to be waiting for her- he'd been hovering since they returned from the sewer, thanks to that psycho's attack and her stunning digestive pyrotechnics.

Frankie took a deep breath and let it out- she was going to handle the situation like she handled everything else, no one had to know; and when it was all over her life would just go back to the way it was before. She shook her body back and forth for a minute to help her blood pressure return to normal and reached for the doorknob.

He was standing there, just as she knew he would be, with a concerned look on his handsome face and nothing but adoration and worry in his big, blue eyes- and just like that her whole plan crumbled to dust. She couldn't take this away from him; how could she, when he'd never been given anything in his difficult, painful life that was just for _his _happiness.

"Are you feeling alright? Is there anything you need?"

A nervous smile curled her mouth as her body began to tremble instantly; Frankie swallowed hard against the lump in her throat as she took his warm, gun calloused hands in hers, "I'm fine," she began slowly as the tears returned, "I have something I need to tell you."

* * *

She was all _alone_.

The pretty, young, blonde girl moved around her run-down apartment completely oblivious to everything and everyone around her. It was interesting, thrilling and irritating all at the same time…though it really depended who was giving the opinion. And as he stood in the pouring rain on the roof of an adjacent building, Doctor Jonathan Crane was quite sure she needed to get her head examined. Nothing so naïve and delicate should be allowed to exist in a place like this, it was too corrupt-too evil.

It would only be a matter of time before something broke her down…or someone.

_**Like **_**me**_**, Johnny? **_

He refused to acknowledge the voice, or the jump in his heart rate that accompanied it. He put a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, cursing the dull, pounding headache that reverberated through his head. It hurt like hell- though his skull _had_ been introduced to a masonry wall by way of Bane's kind hand tonight; he soundly reasoned that anything less than a fracture should be considered a reprieve.

_**That's what you get for touching someone else's things…thought Mommy would have taught you better than that…**_

Crane squeezed his eyes shut tight and tried to focus through the fog in his mind, he wouldn't let him take over again- this was _his_ life!

_**Can't say I blame you though, blondie **_**was**_** beautiful…and it's been a long time hasn't it…**_**years**_**…I was beginning to worry about you…**_

"Stop it!" He finally snapped out loud, refusing to deal with it any longer- but the pain in his head continued, graduating from a dull throb to an almost excruciating stabbing as tears leaked out of the corner of his closed eyes, "Leave me alone!"

_**Oh, Johnny, Johnny, Johnny…I'll never leave you alone…I **_**am **_**you! **_

"Please…" He was openly shaking with effort, trying desperately now to stay in control.

"_Wow_," A mockingly concerned voice suddenly spoke up from behind him. Crane stood ramrod straight and wheeled around to see the Joker, now redressed in his purple suit and coat, taking him in with keen interest, "and-ah- I thought _I _had issues."

He instantly bristled at the man's presence, noting how his freshly green hair almost glowed in the dark and the way the garish clown makeup was streaking slightly in the now driving rain. Now wasn't the time to be dealing with him and his ridiculous questions…he already had one psychopath to keep watch over.

"My current mental state doesn't require any of your concern or your input; I'd appreciate it if you moved on," Crane's voice was thankfully back to its cutting and terse nature-for the moment.

The acerbic remark did nothing to sway him as he pulled a butterfly knife out of his pocket and flipped it open and shut with a flick of his wrist, over and over in a spinning rhythm, "Just an observation _Doc_tor, no need to all get sensitive." He cocked his head sharply to the side and rested a foot on the edge of the building, his thin leg bent at a strange angle as he leaned on it like a table, "But, um, as for your little _request_; I am afraid to say- I'll be staying right here."

"Really?" The doctor huffed with annoyance, "Fresh out of Arkham, with a whole city to terrorize and you are moonlighting on a rooftop."

"Yeah…" The drawled reply was punctuated with a sharp snap of the knife, "Which reminds me- ah- what were _you_ doing in there tonight? Bored? I mean I get what that exquisite masked man and his pretty little lioness were up to…but you, with them? No, no…that doesn't make sense."

"I found myself in a rather unfortunate position due to my _condition_…" Crane answered matter of fact, "I attacked a member of their party- and I wanted to keep myself intact, so I offered up the service."

A loud peal of laughter erupted from his mouth, and he leaned his head back, "Well, well, you _really_ have to let me know the next time good ol' Scarecrow comes around! I'd love to say, hello."

The doctor was silent as dark eyes searched his face, noting the bit of discomfort in his posture, "So…who was it? Not_ her_…he would have broken you in half for even looking- was it the tall blonde?"

Crane visibly flushed and turned away.

"Really?" He hissed through his teeth in an exaggerated sign of sympathy, "Oh, ho, ho, ho…no Johnny boy- she'll eat you alive, you don't want _her_. You need someone sedate- an intellectual, someone with patience- who hates people as much as you do. Actually, maybe you should just get a nice house plant to start, ivy is hard to kill."

The Joker didn't miss the tick of his ice blue eyes towards the open window and the oblivious girl in front of them. "Ohhhh, no-hooo you don't," his foot slid off the comfortable perch and a menacing glint crept into his coal, black gaze, "not _that_ one." The knife in his hand flicked open one last time- and stayed that way, "That one's _mine_."

"I didn't realize you were a romantic," Crane taunted as he tried to calm the rising voice in his head.

"I'm not…I'm no_t,_" He replied stepping closer to the thinner man, "I just appreciate seeing a girl who is just waiting for a little push in the right direction."

It happened in a flash, the light behind the doctor's eyes changed in an instant and he lunged at the clown with a yell; with a grace that belied the ten years he'd been rotting away in solitary confinement, the Joker dropped his shoulder and vaulted him up and over the side of the wall with barely enough time to wrap his fist into the soaking wet red sweater.

Crane gasped frantically for air as he resurfaced into his own body, openly panicking at the thought of being dropped- he was literally suspended by a mad man, a frowning one at that. "Don't drop me!" He cried out as he held tight to the bony wrist, "Please!"

"Ya know I can excuse the outburst- I_ really_ can," he taunted with a gleam in his eye, "but begging? No, no…that I just can't take, you have a bit to work on 'till our next session doc- don't disappoint."

His hand let go and Crane couldn't hold on, he fell with a scream, plummeting down almost ten feet before landing on a window washing scaffold with a loud, painful thud; the sound of maniacal laughter could be heard far above. He was shaking with fear and panic as he lay on his back and stared up at the dark sky trying to catch his breath, ashamed as the tears started to fall- he hated that man.

_**Are you ready to listen now?**_

"That's just _sad_." The clown sighed to himself as he tucked his knife back into his pocket, "Hmmm, now what are we going to do about the little _Harley_ _Quinn_…"

His musings were cut off as a massive beam of light illuminated the sky off in the distance, the symbol instantly brought a smile to his face, "I guess we're going to have to wait my little bunny…got a phone call…and this is one I-ah- gotta take."

* * *

**Sigh…it should **_**really**_** be less fun to write deviant psychopaths…but, uh, there you have it.**

**Also I am pretty surprised that a couple readers picked up on the pregnancy bit, though it wasn't hard : ) That actually came about as the girl that originally inspired Franziska's character is pregnant in real life, it was just as shocking for me…and she actually threw up on the street…that's how she found out : )**

**I know someone also asked about Talia conceiving and unfortunately in my head the two of them have always been infertile…be it from some of Bane's past physical trauma, the gas in his mask, or even the malnourishment she endured as a child, I just never saw them conceiving in my world…so unfortunately their line ends with them…but as Ra's al Ghul said, "There are many forms of immortality." Perhaps this child, though not hers by blood will be raised to succeed her. **

**Please let me know what you think with a lovely review…not much longer to go! : )**


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: I told you I'd be back eventually! I cannot possibly leave this unfinished, I love these two **_**far**_** too much for that!**

**I hope you all enjoy this! And please, **_**please**_** leave me some love! Reviews make the muse smile!  
**

* * *

"And though you are young and you think the world is at your feet, it can rise up and tread on you." ~ Ian McEwan, _Attonement_

* * *

He'd seen a great many things in his life that would have ruined the spirit and confidence of a less adaptable person, though admittedly after the events of the prior evening Lucius Fox wasn't sure he hadn't, perhaps, reached his limit. Being threatened and robbed would have been terrifying enough, but when he looked into the beautiful blue eyes of a woman he was sure had died his mind went completely blank. He had been very fond of Miranda Tate, she was intelligent, driven, idealistic, and caring; a woman that he had spent years getting to know and in her he found a business partner the likes of which he had never seen before.

No one had specifically told him that she had been the one to flood the reactor room during the siege and end the last hope that they had of reconnecting the core, but she was the only one other than himself and Bruce Wayne that knew how to do it. And he was quite sure that the Batman wasn't responsible for the deluge.

If he had any doubt it was confirmed last night. The look in her eyes and the tone of her voice wasn't that of the cultured and delicate French business woman, there was something stern and worldly about her- but at the same time a sense of passion that overwhelmed anything that Miranda Tate had ever expressed towards the idea of the Clean Energy Project. Then there was the uncanny feeling in his gut that told him the lovely woman wasn't standing in that alleyway in the middle of the night alone. Despite the way she had single handedly taken down those street thugs with little effort…it just wasn't right.

"Mr. Fox?" The quiet, feminine voice of his secretary, Alice pulled him out of his revelry, "There's a John Blake here to see you."

Lucius smiled sweetly at the young, blonde. "Thank you, please send him in."

As the woman walked back out the door he was reminded of another assistant that he quite missed. Miranda's secretary Sabine had always been more than proficient in her work, it was a shame he would have liked to promote her if she had decided to stay in Gotham.

:o:o:o:o

John Blake strode into his office with confident steps a few minutes later, though Lucius was quick to notice that the clean cut young man was moving with stiffness in his gait that belied an injury of some sort.

"How are you feeling?" He asked out of genuine concern.

Blake shrugged and took a seat in one of the comfortable leather chairs in front of his desk, his hand came up to scrub at the back of his neck as he let out a long sigh. "Tired and sore as hell," he grinned wryly before laughing, "or am I not supposed to say that? I have a feeling Wayne never complained."

At the mention of his "deceased" friend, Lucius felt his heart sink a little. He'd found out that Wayne had fixed the autopilot after the detonation, but there was still the question is he could have survived, deep down he wanted to assume that he had. "No, he wouldn't out and out complain. He'd be more apt to formulate some sort sarcastic reply that belied his true feelings before asking me for some outlandish and unusual request that would no doubt leave him in more pain."

The younger man laughed before shaking his head, "I got nothing." His smile quickly faded after a few moments and he stared up at the older man a grim look in his dark brown eyes, "I think something serious is going on again."

"What do you mean?" Fox asked as Miranda's face instantly flashed behind his eyes.

"I was listening to the police channels tonight and I am pretty sure that they were trying to cover a few sightings of the Scarecrow around Arkham."

"Crane?"

"Yeah, and I don't need to tell you what level and what cell they were trying really damn hard not to talk about."

"Oh my," Lucius breathed as he shook his head. "Well, maybe it's about time you asked me for and outlandish and unusual request Mr. Blake."

"Yeah, bring Bruce Wayne back from the dead so he can train me. 'Cause I have no idea how to do this."

The sarcastic remark earned a half smile as Lucius stood up from his desk to take Blake to the new area he'd hid the applied sciences wing after Bane had decimated his last armory. "Well, not sure if I can manage that, but follow me and I'll see what I can do."

:o:o:o:o

It was a faint retching noise that pulled Talia out of her contented sleep. Her blue eyes snapped open and she craned her head to realize that the sound was coming from the working bathroom down the hall from her and Bane's makeshift sleeping quarters. She raised her head and concentrated again, letting her ears key into the noise and ignoring the still pounding rain that lashed the windows…it was definitely down the hall…and the person was undoubtedly female.

That only left Frankie.

Talia shifted her lithe body gently, trying not to wake her beloved protector. Bane's strong arms were wound tightly around her waist and held her firmly to the hard wall of his chest as they slept. They were both completely nude, and the warmth of his skin against hers in the cool October air was a difficult thing to pull away from. She smiled in the darkness as she took in his handsome face, hazel eyes closed in repose and the worry lines in his forehead, the ones his mask left exposed, were smoothed out as if he was at peace. In all the time she'd spent sleeping in his arms, from their days in the Pit to the nights in her father's temple, and afterwards in their exile, he never seemed to let himself be as he did now. As if the events of their failed plan and subsequent resurrection had left him with a clear heart and mind.

Though, as she stood up and slid on a plain pair of black cotton pants and a matching shirt, they certainly both had a very good reason to be tired tonight. After all they had done at the asylum he'd taken her by surprise on the roof, loving her in the pouring rain, and then carried her back to their room and proceeded to have her on, against, and over just about every surface he could reach for the next few hours. It had taken her every bit of restraint she had not to scream out at the top of her lungs as he ravaged her body with every ounce of his unending passion and devotion. After all it would be a shame to lose their cover and be killed for something so silly. But as she walked from the room and noticed that her insides were still clamped tight from a row of blinding climaxes- if it was going to be the end she would have met it in the best possible way.

Talia weaved effortlessly through the shadows as she moved towards the bathroom. As she drew near she could still hear the tell-tale noise of someone vomiting, but also noticed that Barsad was asleep in against the wall only steps from the door. It piqued her interest, and despite the fact that it was odd the man had chosen to take the uncomfortable position on the hardwood floor with his back against the brick wall, it didn't particularly surprise her.

The sniper had shown his loyalty time and time again to both herself, Bane and especially Franziska. He was a good man, she thought with a note of pride in her mind, and it was no mystery why her friend had worked so closely with him for so long.

But his face couldn't have looked any more different than Bane's at the moment. Barsad's brow was heavily furrowed in his sleep and a frown curled his mouth. He was definitely disturbed and uneasy- as if the weight of the world was silently resting on his shoulders. Talia felt her face fall into a mirrored frown as she soundlessly opened the bathroom door to see the thin blonde woman literally hanging her head into the toilet bowl.

"What is going on?" Talia asked as she closed the door behind her and crouched behind the woman. Her hands came up and she grabbed a handful of Frankie's sweaty, matted locks, feeling a little awkward at showing tenderness and affection to anyone other than Bane.

"I'm not feeling well."

Her crystal blue eyes stayed away from hers, staring at the floor and even the normally cutting tone of her sarcastic voice was tinged with an emotion that Talia couldn't place- it sounded suspiciously like fear.

"Hence the vomiting," Talia added dryly, hoping that lightening the mood would help her talk. "I quite understood that part already. I want to know _why_ you are sick."

Frankie lifted up her head to look at her and she was shocked to see that her eyes were filled to the brim with tears and her lips were actually shaking. It was off putting to say the least, in all the years they had known one another Talia had seen her cry only once, the night before the bomb was going to detonate. And even then there was a sense of calm about the stoic German woman, but now- now she looked like she was about to completely break down.

"I…I'm…" She started to speak, but the words seemed to get caught in her throat and Talia could see as the trembling moved through her body.

"I'm pregnant."

Talia froze at her confession and for a split second a feeling of unadulterated hatred and jealousy surged through her veins at the realization that Frankie would be able to give something to Barsad that she had been unable to give to Bane- a legacy and an heir. But it passed swiftly as she watched the tears begin to stream down the beautiful blonde woman's cheeks; she was at a loss of what to say. Comfort and sweet words had never been exchanged between her and her father, and she was unable to remember what her mother would have said to reassure her in her own pain and fear.

"I am sorry Demonhead," Frankie whispered though her sadness, "if you wish it, I will end it. I know that we must rebuild your legacy and this is not the time for selfishness."

"Why would you say such a thing?" Talia angrily spoke as she lifted her chin to meet her sapphire stare. "There are many forms of immortality Franziska, and Bane and I are unable to secure a legacy of our own. Though this child you are giving Barsad and the League of Shadows the most precious gift you can offer."

Frankie seemed to calm her breathing for a moment and smile weakly as she leaned in to draw Talia into an embrace. She stiffened at first as the other woman held onto her tightly, but after a moment she relaxed into it. "Thank you, Talia."

"You are welcome," She answered quietly as she settled down onto the floor, her hands stroking her back in the same soothing circles she knew Bane was so fond of. "Though I will _not_ deal with your no doubt ridiculous mood swings that will accompany this pregnancy, so help me I will choke you if necessary."

"Oh, don't worry; I think poor Barsad will be throwing himself from the highest floor of the temple before this is all over." Frankie added dryly. "All I ask is you do not let me know when I have become the same size as a beached whale."

"Of course, that would be terribly unfair of me."

:o:o:o:o

After a moment both women stood up and silently exited the dark bathroom. Frankie knelt down to wake Barsad as Talia moved back to her room and sat back down on her bed, staring over her shoulder to see a pair of sharp eyes observing her.

"Taking a late night walk, little one?"

Talia smiled as she leaned back and let him draw her into his arms once again, rolling them so she was lying on top of his chest and looking down at his face. She traced the tubes and grating of his mask tenderly, letting her lips fall to the warmed metal in a feather light kiss. "Frankie is with child." She answered him quietly, knowing it was futile to hide any of her many feelings on the new revelation.

Her protector's hazel eyes seemed to go through as many emotions as swirled around in her own mind. She saw the resentment and anger at the fact that they'd never been able to have their own, and fondness at the memories of Talia as an infant, and finally happiness and pride that his long-time companion would be a father. "That is rather interesting news, though hardly unexpected given the way the two of them spend time together." He finally answered. "Such a surprise must have both of them in a state of shock."

"I think so," She answered as she absently kneaded the hard, solid muscle of his shoulders and neck with expert pressure. "I have never seen her more unsure."

A low rumble of appreciation vibrated through his chest as his large hands came up to grab her waist and move her down towards the growing evidence of his arousal. Talia quirked an eyebrow as he began to tug at her pants with a hungry insistence, pulling off the flimsy cotton with little care for the occasional popping sound of stitches stretched beyond their means. Talk of children had spurned his hunger once again and he deftly rolled them both so he could wrap her slender legs around his strong waist and mount her.

"It is nearly dawn," His voice growled in her ear lowly as his thick fingers came up to rub between her legs, testing the sensitive skin for the slick evidence of her want with a tentative exploration. The husky sound taking on a pleasurable note when he found her as wet as he knew she'd be at the thought of their joining, "Tomorrow we leave this hollow waste of a city behind us and return to our home, where you will take your rightful place on the throne you deserve."

Talia gasped breathlessly as he swiftly maneuvered himself between her open legs, spearing his wide, hard length into her hot, welcoming body in one powerful thrust. He instantly fell into a powerful, rapid rhythm; as if seeming to know by instinct alone, and the way her inner body still squeezed him like a vise that it wouldn't be long for either of them.

"Yes, my love," she whined desperately, as she could already feel the tension winding up in her body, "and you will be at my side."

"I will kneel at your feet," Bane countered as he began to hit her hard and deep, bumping against her very limit with each stroke, "always your servant."

"No." Talia spoke firmly, grasping his masked face to stare deep into his piercing stare with a challenging one of her own as she clenched down her inner muscles to make it almost impossible for him to withdraw his cock, effectively holding them both in a state of orgasmic suspension. _Her_ will and _her_ power making the decision as to what and when anything would happen, dominating the hulk of a man as she lay belly up beneath him, "You are my servant no longer."

His eyes darted back and forth as his massive body trembled with emotion. She tenderly stroked the exposed skin under his eyes, "We will rule together. My father failed in his conquest of Gotham and so did I. I know now that it was because I did not have you as my equal. I may be the Demonhead by blood, but you are one by your deeds. From now on, I will stand at _your_ side, my love. If you insist on calling me a queen, I shall make you my king and submit to _your_ rule."

Talia relaxed her body and she could see the glisten of emotion in his eyes as he wrapped her tightly in his arms and bowed his head, his shaking hips snapping back to life with a frenzied power driving them both to an explosive end with brutal efficiency only stokes later, his voice a broken groan against her neck as her body shook all around him, "As you wish, my little one."

:o:o:o:o

Jennifer slammed a worn, leather suitcase down on her bed and crammed it full of every pathetic piece of clothing that she owned. Screw the clean slate and getting revenge on Selena Kyle; she was getting the fuck out of Gotham before that vampire of a blonde found her for any more "favors". She honestly had no idea where she was going or how she was going to get there, but plans were the last damn thing she was worried about at the moment.

An ominous crack of lightening ripped through the sky, illuminating it in a strange blue glow before it was instantly followed by a massive thunderclap. The pressure wave shook the old building and she whimpered in fear as the single light bulb over her head flickered once and then went out, leaving her apartment in pitch blackness.

"This is exactly what I need tonight," She grumbled as she blindly searched around the room for her handbag and the five or six cigarette lighters that generally floated around at the bottom. After managing to trip or step on everything she owned across the small distance of her shitty living room she finally found the macramé bag. She felt around inside and pulled out a monogrammed Zippo that she'd stolen from someone on the subway and flicked it to life so she could look around for a candle or something to give her more light.

She finally found an almost completely melted "sweet pea" scented floral candle in the bathroom and held it upside down as she lit the small wick. Feeling a tiny bit of relief as the candle sputtered and popped to life. It wasn't really going to be all that helpful as she tried to continue packing but, whatever. The flickering candle light caused a funny reflective glare off of the bathroom vanity mirror and Jennifer looked up to notice that somewhere along the horror show that was tonight she ended up looking like a damn mess.

Her normally fluffy blonde hair was puffed out and nearly standing on end thanks to the rain, and her kohl black eye liner had smudged beneath her eyes to create huge, dark rings. Even her red lipstick had been smeared- yep, she looked like a fucking lunatic train wreck. She giggled a little in a high pitched sigh when she realized that it kind of made sense, she did spend her night in the sewers under Arkham, coming face to face with a man that had frightened her since she was a teenager.

That wicked, high pitched laughter had given her nightmares ever since that night ten years ago…the night she was on the ferry with her foster mother and he'd rigged the damn thing to explode. She sat there in a daze as people that were supposed to be older and smarter than her did nothing but argue and cry. She had been so close from getting up and pushing the button herself. What was there to think about? It was survival of the fittest. She'd been fighting tooth and nail ever since her parents had abandoned her at an orphanage on her fifth birthday. Every mouthful of food or scrap of clothing she'd ever owned she had to take…fighting for her life seemed so cut and dry, so simple.

On some warped level she envied a man who made no apologies for his actions. He just_ did_ things…he was free.

A loud rhythmic knock on her apartment door to the whimsical tune of "Shave and a Haircut" ripped her out of her revelry. Jennifer swallowed hard, unwilling to answer. The pounding continued louder and louder, graduating to a full-blown banging that shook the cheap door on its hinges.

She didn't want to go anywhere near it, and yet her feet inexorably compelled her to unlock the deadbolt and open the door, though she made sure to leave the chain latched. For a moment she couldn't see anything until another lightning bolt lit up the sky, casting her mystery caller in an eerie glow. Her heart seized in her chest as the outline of a thin, suited man with an unnaturally white face filled the small opening in the door.

Jennifer's eyes widened in terror as he leaned his face closer to hers, the dark gleam of his black eyes became illuminated by the small candle she was still holding in her hand. A horrifying smile curled his disfigured, red painted mouth, revealing a yellowing smile before he spoke in that same captivating voice that had haunted her for so long.

"Well hello, beautiful."


End file.
